


late-night interruption

by dettiot



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:28:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 36,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24609178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dettiot/pseuds/dettiot
Summary: When Obi-Wan receives a late-night comm from Sabé, he’s not sure what to expect. But what he learns will change many lives . . . and the fate of the Republic.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 196
Kudos: 517





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an expanded and revised version of a [ficlet](https://dettiot.tumblr.com/post/619047081065250816/late-night-interruption) I posted on my Tumblr. I loved this idea so much and a lot of people wanted more, and the follow-up ficlets just didn't scratch the itch for me. So I hope you enjoy this!

As the blue holoimage of Master Yoda faded away, Obi-Wan Kenobi let out a breath. “Well.”

“That’s all you’ve got to say? ‘Well’?” 

“No, that is not all I have to say, Anakin,” he said, looking at his former Padawan. “But where to begin? That’s the question.” 

“How about with the Council playing right into the Separatists’ hands by keeping us bouncing around the Outer Rim like this?” Anakin said, turning to face him. “While we’re chasing droid armies, Dooku and Grievous are planning something, I _know_ it.” 

Folding his arms over his chest, Obi-Wan gazed down at the holotable, even though there was nothing on display. Because it was hard to deny Anakin’s words. For the last six months, they had been moving around the Outer Rim, fighting battles at a clip they hadn’t seen since the early days of the war. 

Battles that felt pointless. Like a distraction, a misdirection, allowing the Separatists to conceal their true plan. 

“What do you think they’re planning, then?” Obi-Wan asked him. 

Anakin shrugged. “Whatever it is, it’s bound to be big. The Separatists have been losing ground for the last year. Almost like they’re letting themselves be pushed out to the edge of the galaxy, so no one will think they’ve got a big offensive in them.” 

“Going by that logic, their next move will be to attack the center of the galaxy,” Obi-Wan said, stroking his beard. “Like Coruscant.” 

“Yeah,” Anakin said, looking worried. “That’s what I thought.”

The silence that fell between them was heavy and thick. Full of words they wouldn’t say, emotions they wouldn’t acknowledge. 

As he looked at Anakin, Obi-Wan was struck by just how old he looked. Anakin wasn’t even twenty-three yet, but he looked much older. But even more than that, he just looked . . . 

His hair was disheveled and unwashed. His clothes smelled of smoke and bore more than a few singe marks. And he was definitely too thin. 

No matter how bad things were, Obi-Wan made time to shower, to change his clothes, to eat. He might be as short on sleep as Anakin, but otherwise, he attempted to take care of himself. Because such efforts paid off in the long run. It was hard-won knowledge, learned as his youthful energy faded in the face of continuous challenges. 

But Anakin was stubborn. Convinced of his invincibility. And he didn’t respond well when he felt Obi-Wan was telling him what to do. 

“I suppose we should be thankful the Council is being cautious. It allows us to take advantage of the downtime,” Obi-Wan said, eyeing Anakin. 

“You say cautious, I say dangerously inactive,” he grumbled. 

Well . . . it was hard to argue with that. But the point of this wasn’t to get into a fight with Anakin about the Council’s position. It was to encourage him to get some rest. 

“Be that as it may, we should both try to get some sleep,” Obi-Wan said firmly. 

For a moment, Anakin looked at him, and even opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something. It was rare for Anakin to hesitate like that--so rare that Obi-Wan took a step towards him. 

“Anakin?” 

As quickly as the moment came, it went. Anakin shook his head and stepped back. “Nothing, Master. You’re right, we should take advantage of this break to catch up on our rest.” 

It was tempting to press Anakin, to step up to the door he had opened for a moment and ask for admittance. There had been something bothering him for the last few months, Obi-Wan knew. Ever since their last visit to Coruscant, Anakin seemed to be mulling something, to the point of outright brooding. 

But Anakin was an adult now. If he chose not to talk to Obi-Wan about whatever was in his thoughts, that was his choice. And as difficult as it was to let Anakin struggle when Obi-Wan felt like he could help, he knew he should respect Anakin’s decisions. 

“Yes, indeed,” Obi-Wan said, following Anakin out of the private conference room and towards the hanger bay. For flexibility, they had been traveling on separate ships, to allow them to split up when needed. But that flexibility had come at the cost of Obi-Wan monitoring Anakin. 

Captain Rex fell into step with them. “Generals,” he acknowledged them. “Any word on what's next?” 

“Still waiting for it,” Anakin said, sounding disgruntled. 

With his typical equanimity, Rex just nodded. “Sure to come soon, sir.” 

“Only if we’re lucky,” Anakin said. 

Anakin and Rex kept talking as Obi-Wan followed them, contemplating the matter at hand. He didn’t want to pry, but . . . if Anakin wasn’t sleeping, it would catch up with him. Usually at the worst possible time. 

No, if he was going to get his former Padawan to actually rest, it would take going behind his back and arranging for him to not be disturbed. And if there was one thing Obi-Wan Kenobi was perfectly willing to do, it was to be sneaky. 

“Did we get the transmission of the Chancellor’s latest speech?” Anakin asked Rex. 

“Yes, sir. Waiting for you when we get back to the ship,” Rex said. 

There was an exchange of glances between Anakin and Rex. Something about it made Obi-Wan take another look at the two men. Remembering those times lately when Rex had seemed to be covering for Anakin while he was doing . . . something. 

Obi-Wan gave his head a shake. He was becoming paranoid--a sure sign of his own exhaustion. As soon as he took care of Anakin and saw him and Rex off to their ship, he was going directly to his quarters. 

And then Anakin literally walked into a wall and Obi-Wan made up his mind. 

“Anakin, are you all right?” he asked, stepping forward to offer him a hand up. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Anakin said sheepishly, rising to his feet on his own power. His cheeks were flushed and he rubbed a hand over his face. “Just tired.” 

Turning to Rex, Obi-Wan said, “You should pilot the shuttle to the _Resolute_. If Anakin did it, you’d probably wind up flying into a black hole.” 

“Master,” Anakin said, his voice practically a whine. 

Obi-Wan gave him a look. “Why don’t you go prep the ship for launch? If you do it properly, I’m sure Rex would be more comfortable putting his life into your hands.” 

That wasn’t quite enough to pacify Anakin, but it got him onto the shuttle, just as Obi-Wan wanted. He turned to Rex. “Captain, I’m ordering you to hold any of Anakin’s comm messages until he’s gotten at least eight hours of sleep.” 

Rex shifted his feet a little. “You sure about that, General?” 

Translation: Rex was fully prepared to throw him under the speeder if Anakin found out. Which, to be honest, was just what Obi-Wan expected Rex to say. 

“Yes, I am,” Obi-Wan said. “I’ll deal with Anakin if it comes to that.” 

“Understood, sir,” Rex said, his sense of worry easing slightly. “I’ll take care of General Skywalker, never you fear.” 

“I have no doubt of that, Rex,” Obi-Wan said with a small smile. 

With a crisp salute, Rex followed Anakin up the landing ramp of the shuttle. It only took a few moments for the ramp to lift and for the ship’s engines to spool up. With Anakin on his way to his ship, that meant Obi-Wan was able to head to his quarters. 

A few minutes in the sonic shower and a ration bar was enough to make him feel ready for bed. But he still sat on the floor and dropped into a short meditation, doing his best to clear his mind before bed. He had found that a few minutes of meditation before sleeping was enough to help hold off the worst of his nightmares. 

He just hoped tonight that he would fall asleep quickly. 

By the time he rose from the floor and pulled back his covers, Obi-Wan was yawning. Slipping between the sheets, he closed his eyes and felt the warm, dark blanket of oblivion fall over him peacefully. 

XXX

As she trailed behind Padmé, Sabé was struck with a sense of déjà vu. It had been years since she had served as a traditional handmaiden, but it was rather remarkable how all the old skills came back to her. 

Keep her head lowered but her eyes up. Make a note of every person and droid who crossed their path. Stay two steps behind Padmé, fading into the background whenever anyone approaches her. Listen to every conversation without appearing to hear anything. 

Yet serving Padmé as an aide instead of a handmaiden was very different. On Naboo or during their trips off-planet, Queen Amidala had played a different role. A role with more respect, more autonomy. 

Now? As a Senator? Sabé didn’t know how Padmé could deal with the lack of control, with having to sway other Senators to her point of view. 

But then, that was why Padmé was the Senator and Sabé was the aide. Her old friend and former Queen had all the skills needed to be a Senator, while Sabé preferred to gather information and work on the fringes or in the dark. 

It was only due to Padmé’s condition that Sabé was here at all, stepping in to allow Dormé to double for Padmé more frequently. 

Because even though it was probably obvious to most people who looked at her, Padmé had refused to make any public announcements about her pregnancy. And Sabé knew why, could understand why . . . but she didn’t have to like it. Not when it meant Padmé had to keep working, had to keep pushing herself instead of taking it easy.

Sabé found herself worrying more and more about Padmé’s child, even as her worries for Padmé herself increased exponentially. 

Without the mid-adolescence growth spurt Sabé had experienced, Padmé had remained the same height as when she was a fourteen-year-old queen. Her figure was slight, and even though Sabé knew Padmé was strong and physically fit . . . it seemed like her swollen belly dwarfed her figure. 

The moment Sabé had seen Padmé upon her arrival on Coruscant, her first thought had been how could a woman so small be having such a large baby? Sabé had immediately asked about Padmé’s prenatal care, but her friend had waved aside her concerns. 

“I’ve regularly seen a med droid and I’m in good health,” Padmé reassured her. 

She had opened her mouth to argue that a med droid was fine in a pinch but no replacement for an actual healer, but the tightness of Padmé’s mouth, the strain in her eyes, made Sabé hold her tongue. 

At least Padmé had asked her to come, Sabé had tried to console herself. She was Padmé’s oldest friend, the first handmaiden selected upon Padmé’s election as Princess of Theed and future Queen of Naboo. Padmé must have had some concerns about her health to ask Sabé to come, instead of pretending everything was fine.

And since her friend had asked her to come, Sabé had of course gotten on the first ship to Coruscant. Nothing would prevent her from helping Padmé. 

It had only taken a few days for Sabé to see just how much Padmé needed her help. Her work schedule was even more punishing than it was when she had been Queen. It wasn’t just the hours of reading and research, either. Achieving anything in the Senate seemed predicated upon tedious socializing: cocktail parties, dinners, nights at the opera and the ballet . . . 

No wonder Padmé looked exhausted even before you considered she was seven and a half months pregnant. 

But tonight would be different. There were no social engagements, and it was still fairly early. They could go back to Padmé’s apartment and Sabé would order some dinner while Padmé bathed. If luck was with her, Sabé could convince Padmé to actually relax by watching a holomovie or talking, instead of doing more reading. 

When Senator Bendon approached them, Sabé was very tempted to nudge Padmé along. They were nearly to the speeder dock, where Padmé’s pilot and security escort was waiting for her. They were so close to escaping!

But of course Padmé wouldn’t ignore a colleague, so Sabé hung back as Padmé, with help from C-3PO, spoke with Senator Bendon. 

However, as Sabé watched her friend, she couldn’t help feeling like something was wrong. There was a tension in Padmé’s shoulders--a tension, she now realized, which had been there since Sabé had arrived on Coruscant.

Padmé’s body suddenly flinched, and Senator Bendon made an Ithorian gesture that seemed to represent concern. 

“Senator Amidala, are you all right?” 3PO translated. 

“Yes,” Padmé lied. Her voice was breathy and thin, and she half-turned towards Sabé, who was already stepping forward. “I’m sorry, Senator, but I was on my way home--”

The other senator made a few noises and 3PO said, “I’m sorry to have kept you. Have a good evening, Senator Amidala.” 

Sabé supported Padmé, who leaned on her heavily as they walked to the speeder dock. 

“Padmé, is it--?” she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Lips tight, Padmé nodded. She said nothing further until they were settled in the speeder, zipping through Coruscant’s traffic towards 500 Republica.

“I . . . I’ve been having contractions for a week, but--but it’s too early,” Padmé said, her face white and beads of sweat appearing on her forehead. 

It was all she could do not to roll her eyes. How could Padmé let herself be in this condition for a week without saying anything? Sabé held tight to her frustration, as a way to ignore her guilt. Because how could Padmé have contractions for a week without Sabé noticing? Without anyone noticing?

“We’re nearly home,” Sabé said, putting all the comfort and reassurance she could into her voice. “When we arrive, we’ll call for a healer. No arguments,” she warned Padmé. 

Silently, Padmé nodded, then reached out and gripped Sabé’s hand. “Sabé--please call Anakin. I want--no, I _need_ him here.”

“Then we’ll get him here,” Sabé said gently. “Just breathe, Padmé.” 

Padmé nodded again, then let out a soft groan and squeezed Sabé’s hand tightly. 

“Faster,” Sabé called out to the driver, gently stroking Padmé’s hair. 

XXX

It wasn’t the first time the chiming of his comm had awoken him in the middle of the night. It wasn’t even the first time tonight, due to Admiral Yularen notifying him of a course change. But his sleep had been so deep, coming after too many nights with too little sleep, that it was hard to respond to another interruption. 

But Obi-Wan simply called on the Force to clear away some of his exhaustion as he picked up his comm. 

“Kenobi.” 

“Sorry to wake you up, General, but I’m getting a comm for you and the person on the other end won’t take no for an answer,” one of the communication officers said briskly. 

Sitting up, Obi-wan rubbed his eyes. “Who is it?” 

“No name, but they said when you met, you knew them as someone else?” 

Obi-Wan frowned. That wasn’t exactly clear, and his sleep-addled mind wasn’t helping him figure this out. He reached out to the Force, seeking guidance, and felt a small flicker. A nudge, urging him to listen to the unknown person. 

“Put it through,” Obi-Wan said, running a hand through his hair and tugging his tunic into place.

His mouth dropped open in confusion and surprise when he saw the person displayed on the holo. For a moment, he thought it was Senator Amidala, but, no, it wasn’t her--it was–

“Sabé?” he asked, surprised and confused. The former handmaiden still bore a strong resemblance to Padmé, but it was now easier to spot the differences between the two women and make the proper identification. But that didn’t help him understand why Sabé was contacting him. 

“Master Kenobi, I’m sorry for this interruption,” she said after a graceful nod. Her face was smooth and blank, her voice even, but there was something in her presence that made Obi-Wan feel on edge. Because deep down, Sabé was very worried. 

“Not at all. Although I am surprised to hear from you, I admit,” Obi-Wan replied. 

Sabé took a deep breath. “Yes, of course. But–but it is urgent I speak with Master Skywalker, and unfortunately, the communication officers on his ship were less willing to assist me.” 

It appeared that Rex had followed Obi-Wan’s orders to the letter. He couldn’t regret the order, not with how tired Anakin had looked. Even if he was now put in the position of playing middleman between Anakin and Sabé. Who, Obi-Wan noted, had carefully avoided telling him why she needed to speak to Anakin.

“I didn’t know you were in communication with Anakin,” he prodded. He blamed having just been woken up for the not-so-graceful approach he took. 

She seemed to blink. “I’m not,” she said, hesitating for a moment. “I assumed that wherever you were, Master Skywalker would not be far away. Or that you would be able to contact him when I could not.”

“That is true . . .” Obi-Wan said, pondering her words and investigating her presence, even though it was difficult to do so via a holo connection. The fact that Sabé was not a stranger to him helped a little, although given the way Padmé and her handmaidens switched places, Obi-Wan still wasn’t sure if he knew any of her assistants that well. 

And he knew, from his conversations with Padmé over the years, that she considered Sabé her closest friend. Which made him wonder if Sabé was reaching out to Anakin on someone else’s behalf. 

When he considered everything, Obi-Wan knew what he should do. 

“How can I help, Sabé?” Obi-Wan asked, ready to assist in any way he could. 

“All I require is to be connected with Master Skywalker,” Sabé said evenly. 

Of course, she wanted something he wasn’t sure he should help with. Especially not when he reached out to the _Resolute_ for Anakin’s presence and felt the still calm radiating off him. If he wasn't asleep, he was definitely resting, which made Obi-Wan feel relieved. At least something was going to plan tonight. 

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid that’s not possible right now,” he told Sabé, trying to make his voice gentle. “But I would be happy to pass along a message--” 

“It’s an emergency,” Sabé interrupted. Her placid mask cracked, alerting him to the truth in her words. “Please, Master Kenobi.” 

“Perhaps if you told me more about this emergency, I would be able to assist you,” Obi-Wan said, not willing to disturb Anakin for anything less than the fall of the Republic.

A flicker of emotion showed on Sabé’s face and in her presence, a spike of anger and annoyance and--fear? He could tell she was gathering herself before she spoke, and Obi-Wan wondered what she was going to say. 

And after he heard her words, Obi-Wan almost found himself wishing the Republic was falling.

“Senator Amidala has gone into premature labor, and she wants the father of her child to be there.” 

End, Chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a long time since Obi-Wan felt this speechless. He was having trouble remembering any of those times, though, because he was still boggling at Sabé’s words. 

Senator Amidala was pregnant? And Anakin-- _ Anakin Skywalker _ \--was the father?

What? Just … what?

Apparently, he had said that aloud, because the Senator’s former handmaiden responded. 

“The senator is seven months pregnant,” Sabé said quietly. “She has kept her pregnancy as secret as possible, because of both her and Master Skywalker’s positions.” 

Of course. Padmé was an intelligent woman. She knew pregnancy could be damaging to her career. And with a Jedi for a father, given the Jedi’s current poor standing within the galaxy, it would be doubly damaging for her. 

Not to mention what would happen to Anakin if it became known he fathered a child. It was such a glaring violation of the Jedi Code, Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what to think. 

Anakin was smarter than this--how could he have allowed this to happen? How could he have let himself form such an attachment to the Senator, to the point of creating a baby, when he knew what the consequences would be upon discovery?

Suddenly, in the midst of his confusion and shock, another question occurred to him. A question that made his whole body go cold with hurt. 

How could Anakin have done this without telling him? 

It was like discovering something you relied on to hold up your life had collapsed underneath you, bringing your whole life down around you. Because he thought Anakin trusted him. He thought Anakin knew he could tell Obi-Wan anything. 

Swallowing, Obi-Wan tried to focus on the problem at hand and not the avalanche of hurt and sadness sweeping over him. “Is the Senator all right? And . . . and the child?” 

“She’s receiving excellent care,” Sabé said. “She asked me to come stay with her a week ago, to help her handle her workload as she approached the end of her pregnancy. But nearly as soon as I arrived, she apparently began experiencing contractions. The Senator thought it was false labor, but it’s clear now that the baby is coming, and soon.” 

Obi-Wan nodded slowly, accepting Sabé’s words. “And . . . and she wants Anakin with her?” 

“Of course. She wants her husband with her,” Sabé said crisply, as if he was a moron. 

“Husband?!?” Obi-Wan yelped in a most undignified manner. He should probably be ashamed of his reaction, but . . . husband?!?

Sabé blinked. “Um . . . yes. The Senator and Master Skywalker are married.” 

He slumped down in his chair, his mind spinning. When he felt a flash of panic, one that didn’t match what he was feeling, Obi-Wan nearly groaned. In the wake of all this, his shields had fallen. 

And thanks to his bond with Anakin, his former Padawan had been awakened by Obi-Wan’s shock, confusion and disbelief. 

XXX

When had he fallen asleep? And why was he awake now?

Anakin blinked, looking around his quarters and rubbing his eyes. The last thing he remembered, he had stretched out on his bed, wishing that there had been a message from Padmé waiting for him. They hadn’t been able to talk for the last three days, due to the last battle and their schedules not syncing up. And the lack of communication with his wife was making him a bit crazy with worry.

If only he could talk to Padmé. She could put his worries to ease in a moment. She would remind him that she had 3PO, that Sabé was coming to visit to help her, that she was going to slow down . . . 

His soft snort was tinged with love and amusement. Anakin Skywalker wasn’t nearly as smart as his wife about politics or history or economics, but he was the galaxy’s foremost expert on Padmé Naberrie Amidala (Skywalker). So he knew that if the galaxy needed her, Padmé would respond. Even when she was pregnant with the largest baby in the galaxy. 

Rubbing a hand over his face, Anakin sat up and wondered what had woken him up. He reached out, touching the minds of the men on the  _ Resolute _ , and found no disturbances. 

Perhaps it was just a random noise outside his door that jerked him out of sleep. He should probably just settle back into his bed and try to rest more, as Obi-Wan had suggested. 

At least it wasn’t the nightmare that woke him up . . . he didn’t feel the fear and panic that gripped him at the thought of losing Padmé. 

With a shake of the head, Anakin did his best to push aside his nightmares and focused on the time. If he was doing the math right, it was approaching nine in the evening on Coruscant. That meant Padmé might be calling him soon. So he would just wait for her to call. 

She was starting to really feel the weight of her pregnancy. It was taking so much out of her--every time they talked, he could see the dark circles under her eyes, hear the exhaustion in her voice. 

It had taken all his persuasive skills, everything he had learned from Obi-Wan, to convince Padmé to contact Sabé. Anakin knew the circle of people that Padmé trusted was small, and she would need every one of those people with her right now. So it didn’t make sense for Sabé to be on Naboo, when she could be on Coruscant with Padmé. 

Now that Sabé was with her, Padmé should be able to get more rest. To be ready for the baby to come. 

For a moment, Anakin gazed up at the ceiling of his quarters, a smile on his face. He was going to be a father. It was still such an unbelievable, wonderful idea to him. The thought that his love for Padmé, and hers for him, had created a new life all its own, without midichlorians or medical meddling--that was truly magical, more than anything he could do with the Force. 

Whether the baby was a boy or a girl, with his eyes or Padmé’s hair, he couldn’t wait to meet his child. And really, he didn’t care about the baby’s gender, their eye or hair color--he just wanted a healthy, happy child. 

_ no! _

Anakin jerked upright, his heart pounding, as he felt a wave of shock and panic pour over him. It was something he had only felt once before--when he was in a yellow starfighter over Naboo--when he knew nothing about the Force beyond what Master Qui-Gonn had told him--

But this was stronger--sharper--sadder, full of disappointment and regret and hurt. 

He threw up his shields, bracing himself against the emotion. Because once that was done, he needed to figure out what was going on. 

Closing his eyes, Anakin centered himself then slowly cast his senses out, looking for the source of the emotion. He made himself start small, refusing to immediately jump to the person he suspected of the emotional upheaval. Because his master had only once before let his emotions be so overwhelming, in the moment when he had lost his own master. 

A deeper look on the ship revealed nothing matching the feelings still battering against his shields, just the gentle hum of sleeping men. Taking a breath, he reached out further, edging closer to Obi-Wan. 

Anakin only needed a moment of touching Obi-Wan’s presence to know it was him. He was the one feeling so hurt and upset. And his heart ached at the thought of what was making Obi-Wan feel like this. 

Was this how he had felt when he had lost Satine? 

His comm was right by his bed and Anakin grabbed it and immediately sent a message to Obi-Wan. The channel buzzed softly, indicating the line was already in use. 

Who was Obi-Wan talking to? That would explain the sudden burst of emotion, if Obi-Wan had gotten some bad news--but what? From who? 

The longer he waited, the more nervous Anakin became. He rose to his feet and began pacing slowly, trying to stay calm. As he moved, he scooped up his tunic from the floor and pulled it on. 

Maybe he should just go down to the hangar and get a shuttle. He could fly over to Obi-Wan’s ship and see him in person. Although they were in hyperspace--he’d have to send an order to the bridge--

There was a beep and Anakin focused on the image of his master. His face looked pinched, worn, tired,  _ old _ . 

“Obi-Wan? What’s wrong?” he asked, cutting to the chase. Because he couldn’t wait any longer to find out what was going on.

XXX

His comm beeped, letting him know he had another call. He didn’t have to guess to know who it was--or to know that keeping Anakin waiting for very long was fuel for disaster. 

Rubbing his fingers against his burning eyes, Obi-Wan said, “I will let Anakin know right away. I believe we’re about five hours out from Coruscant. Hopefully, the child will cooperate so Anakin can arrive in time.” 

With all the surprises he had already experienced tonight, seeing Sabé smile was just another one to add to the list. “I’ll inform Padmé. She’ll be glad to know Master Skywalker is on the way. But if the child has a quarter of Padmé’s stubbornness, if they decide it’s time, they’re going to come. We’ll just have to trust in luck to keep the child from arriving too early.” 

“And the Force,” Obi-Wan said, his mind beginning to slot through the emotions and formulating plans. 

Sabé gave a small nod, then ended the comm. No sooner had her image vanished than his comm chimed to remind him about the waiting call.

For a moment, he considered just . . . not taking it. Letting Anakin leave a message then going back to bed and pulling the covers over his head. Wishing that he had never taken Sabé’s comm, so he could still be in his state of blissful ignorance.

Well . . . more willful ignorance. Because it wasn’t a surprise that Anakin and Padmé were together. Anakin had shown a marked interest in the Senator since he had first met her during the invasion of Naboo, when he was a small boy and she was a queen. As for Padmé, it was harder to pinpoint when she became interested in Anakin. Could it have been at some point during the war, during all those times Anakin came charging to her rescue? 

Although could it have been earlier? Like on the mission to protect her, before the war even started?

Letting his thoughts wander like this was pointless. Obi-Wan wasn’t a person to shirk his duty or break a promise. And even if he hadn’t promised Sabé to contact Anakin . . . he wouldn’t deprive Padmé of the comfort of her husband at a time like this. 

Or let Anakin miss the birth of his child. 

With a deep breath, he readied himself for the conversation. He pushed his feelings down, because right now, his own worry and hurt didn’t matter. There would be time for dealing with those emotions later, possibly. 

When he accepted the comm, Anakin appeared as expected. His hair was ruffled and the collar of his tunic was twisted–probably due to being hastily pulled on. Even though his former Padawan was usually cold in space, he also hated to wear a shirt when he slept. 

It was one of just a thousand things he knew about Anakin. But Obi-Wan was realizing there were facts he didn’t know about the man he considered his brother. Large, important facts. 

“Obi-Wan? What’s wrong?” Anakin asked, leaning in towards the holocamera. 

For a long moment, Obi-Wan gazed at Anakin. He wanted to avoid letting his emotions show, because it would just distract from the matter at hand. He was the Negotiator, the man who had always managed to put logic before emotion. 

“I just received a message from Senator Amidala’s aide, Sabé,” Obi-Wan said slowly, watching closely for Anakin’s reaction. There was the barest flicker in his Force presence, but otherwise, Anakin didn’t show any surprise. 

And suddenly, Obi-Wan was tired. Too tired to draw this out, too tired to avoid the hurt he knew was coming. So he just spoke without worrying about how Anakin was going to take this. 

“Your baby is coming and your wife wants you there.” 

End, Chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3

Despite her high rank and all the honors she had achieved, Padmé Amidala had experienced plenty of pain in her life. Emotional pain was most prominent: when her planet was invaded, when her people gave their lives to protect each other and her. When she had to pretend former colleagues were no longer friends when their systems became part of the CIS. When she had to lie to her family and friends. When Cordé was killed. 

There had been physical pain, as well: trudging through the desert on Tatooine. Falling out of the transport on Geonosis. Being hungry and thirsty and exhausted to a breaking point. 

But none of those events had prepared her for childbirth. 

“Breathe, Senator,” Healer Gahan said, holding Padmé’s hand. She could feel the suction cups on the Mon Calamari’s hand as she squeezed it. “Easy does it, Senator,” she reminded her. 

“I--I’m trying,” Padmé panted, trying not to lose her temper. 

She felt like her body was being slowly split in half, inch by inch. The baby was insisting on coming now, so early--was it was too early? What if something was wrong? And worst of all, Anakin wasn’t here and Sabé hadn’t been able to make contact with him. 

Where was he? 

The contraction finally eased and Padmé slumped back against the pillows, letting go of Healer Gahan’s hand. “I’m sorry,” she said, moving both her hands onto her extended belly. 

“It’s quite all right, Senator,” the healer said, her large, glassy eyes shining. “Your body is under great stress. But everything is going well. I’m going to review some data from your file, and then take another look to check your dilation. All right?” 

Nodding, Padmé did her best to smile. “Thank you.” 

As the healer stepped out of the room, Sabé entered, her eyes immediately locking with Padmé’s. 

“Did you get through to Anakin?” Padmé asked quickly, lifting her head to hold her friend’s gaze. 

“Not directly,” Sabé said, stepping over and picking up a glass of water to hold it to Padmé’s lips. “Drink some of this.” 

She took a sip but wouldn’t let herself be distracted from the matter at hand. “What do you mean, ‘not directly’?” 

“Your suggestion about contacting Master Kenobi was a good one--he said he would alert Anakin himself and they would be here as quickly as they could. But it will probably be about five hours,” Sabé said, holding the glass to her lips again. 

Frowning, Padmé tried to push away the glass, but Sabé insisted, “Drink a little more and I’ll explain everything.” 

Rather than argue, since it would be useless to do so, Padmé drank some more and then looked at Sabé with an arched eyebrow. 

Her friend took a seat on the edge of her bed. “I told Master Kenobi that I needed to talk to Anakin, but he wouldn’t put me through to him. So . . . I told Master Kenobi that you needed him here, because the baby was coming.” Sabé paused, then said, “I also told him that you and Anakin are married.” 

Padmé stared at Sabé, before letting out a quiet groan. “What?”

“I’m sorry! I had no idea that Master Kenobi didn’t know--I didn’t think Anakin would have been able to keep such a big secret like being married from him, especially not once you were going to have a baby,” Sabé said, sounding equal parts regretful and annoyed. 

Sighing, Padmé lifted a hand to her forehead, covering her eyes. 

“I really am sorry, Padmé.” 

“I know you are,” she said, lowering her hand and reaching out to take Sabé’s. “It’s all right. I always thought Obi-Wan should have known, but Anakin wouldn’t hear of it.” 

“I wonder why,” Sabé said. 

With a shrug of her shoulders, Padmé took a deep breath as she felt another contraction gaining strength. “I don’t know. Whenever I encountered Obi-Wan before I got pregnant, I always thought he suspected something was going on between Anakin and I. But now he knows.”

“I don’t think he suspected anything like this,” Sabé said, gesturing towards Padmé’s stomach. “Although I think he was more surprised about the marriage, to be honest.” 

That was interesting, Padmé acknowledged to herself. But the pain gripped her body again, making her squeeze Sabé’s hand tightly, and all she could focus on was what was happening to her. 

_ Oh, Anakin, get here quickly . . .  _

XXX

Getting jerked out of a sound sleep by his master wasn’t something that happened often to Anakin Skywalker. Well, no–Obi-Wan had woken him up plenty of times, when there was a battle at hand or a mission to leave for. But having his master’s feelings reach through their bond and shake him awake?

That was new. 

Waiting for Obi-Wan to reply to his comm felt like a lifetime. And his anxieties weren’t eased when he saw Obi-Wan, who looked pale even in the blue holo-display. 

“Obi-Wan? What’s wrong?” Anakin asked, leaning closer to the display as if it would make his master’s face easier to read. 

But then Obi-Wan spoke and Anakin felt like nothing made sense anymore.

“Your baby is coming and your wife wants you there.”

Padmé? The baby?  _ Now _ ? That--that couldn’t be good--it was so early--but the baby! The baby was coming! They’d find out if it was a girl or a boy and finally settle the argument he and Padmé had been having. 

But--but what about his nightmares? What if--what if Padmé was in danger? How could he save her if he was on a ship hundreds of lightyears away from her? He needed to get to her--now!

Suddenly, as if a bucket of ice-cold water was dumped over his head, the worry and fear and excitement was wiped away. Because it had just registered on Anakin exactly who had given him the most important news of his life. 

Obi-Wan knew. Obi-Wan knew that he had violated the Jedi Code. Not just violated--smashed into pieces. Which meant Anakin had disappointed the man who was the closest thing to his father, brother and teacher. The last person Anakin ever wanted to disappoint. 

And Obi-Wan was incredibly disappointed. Disappointed, worried, confused. But swamping all those emotions was the hurt. 

His master wasn’t one to reveal his feelings. Even in the Force, Obi-Wan kept himself under tight control. From his earliest days, Anakin had delighted in those times he could make Obi-Wan break his rigid discipline. When he was young, it was to get Obi-Wan to laugh--really laugh. As he grew older, Anakin pushed and prodded Obi-Wan to admit he agreed with Anakin on something. No matter what, Anakin treasured seeing the real Obi-Wan, not the perfect Jedi Master. 

Now he was really seeing his master for the man he was. And that man was incredibly hurt by Anakin’s actions. 

“Obi-Wan–” Anakin said, searching for the words to make this better. To make him understand that he hadn’t wanted to keep these secrets from him, but–but Obi-Wan wouldn’t have understood. After all--he was Obi-Wan Kenobi, the ideal Jedi. He gained his strength from the Force, he didn’t let his emotions sway him, he fought against attachment. He had walked away from the woman he loved for the sake of the Order. And he had watched that woman die and had just kept going, without pause . . . 

No, Obi-Wan wouldn’t have understood Anakin’s feelings. 

_ He would have understood _ , a voice in his head whispered. A voice that sounded like his mother. 

Before Anakin could mess up any more than he already had, Obi-Wan held up a hand. “Sabé contacted me when she wasn’t able to reach you. She said Padmé is receiving excellent care, but she wants you there for the birth of your child. I will alert the Council that a matter has arisen that you need to deal with. You can take the  _ Resolute  _ to Coruscant while I proceed back to the Outer Rim.” 

“Obi-Wan, you can’t--you’ll need the 501st in the next battle. I don’t need to take the  _ Resolute _ , I can get on a shuttle and go by myself,” Anakin protested weakly, because he wasn’t sure what else to say. Not when Obi-Wan clearly did not want to talk about his feelings, even as those feelings were overwhelming his attempts at shielding. There was so much guilt and regret inside Obi-Wan . . . 

“I’m sure the Council will provide me with any necessary assistance,” Obi-Wan said. He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice was slightly softer. “I will not tell them the reason for your absence.” 

Anakin swallowed. How many times had they been in this position? With Anakin letting down Obi-Wan by his choices? How many times had Anakin apologized and vowed to do better, both to Obi-Wan and himself? And yet, he kept making the same damn mistake over and over again, not trusting Obi-Wan, assuming his master, his  _ father _ , would shun him for what he had done. 

Not trusting the Council, not trusting politicians--that made sense. They would punish him to exert their power over him. But would Obi-Wan really do the same? Anakin had lost track of the number of times he had thought about telling Obi-Wan the truth about Padmé, about the upcoming baby, but he had always held back. 

He had always been too scared to be honest with him. But maybe . . . maybe it was time to stop being so scared. Not when he knew-- _ really _ knew--how Obi-Wan felt. 

For kriff’s sake, he was about to become a father. He--he needed to be better. And that had to start now. 

“Obi-Wan–I’m sorry–” he said, trying to inject as much sincerity into his voice as possible, only for Obi-Wan to interrupt him.

“I know you are,” Obi-Wan said, his voice still soft. “But that does not change your actions, and I . . . ”

His voice trailed off, a flash of emotion spiking through the hurt. Anakin felt his mouth go dry as he realized it wasn’t just hurt and guilt on the verge of consuming his master.

It was  _ envy _ . 

Obi-Wan was envious of Anakin, for having what Obi-Wan didn’t have: a wife and soon a child. He had never realized his master might want those things, too. He thought Obi-Wan had made his peace with leaving Satine, had even accepted her loss, but . . . 

“Obi-Wan, I’m sorry I didn’t trust you–that I didn’t tell you about me and Padmé,” Anakin said quickly, the words pouring out of him, his face heating from the embarrassment and shame. “I just–I thought you’d be mad or upset and I didn’t want to hurt you, I didn’t want to disappoint you. Or make you have to tell the Council how much I’ve messed up. But–but that was wrong of me, and I’m sorry, and–and you don’t have to tell the Council anything, I’ll comm them and tell them everything and I don’t care what happens, I’ll tell them you didn’t know anything about this, you’ll be safe, you’ll be–” 

“Like kriff you’ll do that!” Obi-Wan roared. 

XXX

The vehemence in his voice--the volume of his protest--surprised Anakin, Obi-Wan could tell. His padawan actually jerked back, shock washing through his Force sense.

To be honest, Obi-Wan was a bit surprised, too. Because this wasn’t the first time Anakin had stumbled over his words as he attempted to apologize for some action or another. There had been several times that Anakin had made promises, only to break them in the heat of the moment. But Obi-Wan knew that in Anakin’s judgement, his heart was always in the right place. 

But Anakin had never radiated such sincerity, such remorse, as he did right now. And the thought of Anakin throwing away everything in order to protect him . . . 

He couldn’t let him do that. 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, rubbing a hand over his face. “Do you really think I could tell the Council what you’ve done and not fight for you to remain in the Order? I couldn’t. I would forgive you anything. And if you don’t realize that, if you don’t realize how proud I am of you, my brother . . . ” 

That was what hurt the most. That Anakin just assumed he would go to the Council, without talking to Anakin first. That he assumed Obi-Wan wouldn’t be able to forgive him for his mistakes and his choices. 

It hurt the most, and made Obi-Wan question everything that had happened since he began training Anakin. Made all those old insecurities and doubts and fears come to life again. And they were so strong, so powerful, he wasn’t able to hold them back behind the walls he had built within himself. 

Because . . . Anakin was married. He was about to have a child. And Obi-Wan hadn’t known any of it. Certainly had suspected Anakin of a partiality towards Padmé, but this? 

Was it part of being the Chosen One? To be able to make such choices, to be so certain he was doing the right thing? And was it part of being the merely competent Jedi that Obi-Wan was that when he was in the same position to make such choices, had made such a different choice--even though his heart was just as taken as Anakin’s?

“I’m sorry,” Anakin said, wiping at his eyes to brush away a tear. “I’m so sorry, Obi-Wan. I just . . . I was wrong. So wrong.” 

The guilt was rolling off Anakin in waves. It was exhausting, how much Anakin felt. Perhaps that was why Anakin was able to do what Obi-Wan couldn’t. He loved so much and so deeply, how could he attempt to hide it? 

Obi-Wan just felt so tired. Exhausted to a point where he couldn’t act like his normal self. 

“It’s all right, Anakin,” he promised him. 

Anakin shook his head. “No, it isn’t. We . . . we have a lot to talk about, I think.” 

“We do,” he said, nodding in agreement. “But . . . most of it will have to wait, of course.” 

“Until after the baby,” Anakin said, his face lighting up. It was all Obi-Wan could do not to covetously, vicariously live through Anakin’s emotions. Because that sweep of excitement and joy, with a bit of fear . . . it was enough to make Obi-Wan wonder what might have been. 

He felt so fragile. Like a fine ceramic with a hairline crack. With just the slightest amount of pressure applied in the wrong place, he might shatter, with no one to repair him. Because who would care to put back together a broken, tired Jedi like him? 

This was why he wouldn’t let himself think about his past. About all the choices he might have made and how those choices might have turned out. Because the thought of his life being better than what he had . . . it wasn’t proper for a Jedi to have such thoughts. They reflected too great an attachment to specific people, a lack of respect for the here and now . . . 

“You … you could tell the Council we both have a matter to attend to,” Anakin said quietly, hesitantly. Like he wasn’t sure what Obi-Wan’s reaction would be. 

He blinked, staring at Anakin’s blue-tinged expression. 

“So you could be there when the baby comes,” Anakin continued, taking a deep breath. “I would–I would really like you to be there, Obi-Wan.” 

Obi-Wan leaned back in his chair, feeling a knot in his chest loosen. Anakin wanted him there? Not out of pity or obligation, but . . . simply because he wanted him there?

“You would?” Obi-Wan asked softly, not sure he believed Anakin, even though he couldn’t read anything in him to make him discount his sincerity. “But . . . this is something for family . . .”

“I know,” Anakin said, looking him straight in the eye. “But you and Ahsoka and Padmé are my family. The Council can send anyone to the next battle--but right now, Padmé needs me. And I need you.” 

For once, Obi-Wan had no interest in hiding his reaction. He tilted his head to the side, smiling slowly, feeling like the bright light of hope was clearing up the dark clouds of hurt and doubt inside him. 

“You really mean that, Anakin?” he asked, because those dark clouds weren’t fully gone.

“I really mean it--of course I do, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, smiling widely. 

“Then . . . yes, all right,” Obi-Wan replied, feeling the warmth of Anakin’s Force presence sink into his bones like the sun. 

And it felt so good. To be on the same wavelength as Anakin, for the first time in a long time. Maybe ever? Obi-Wan didn’t know. He just knew he liked this feeling. 

Perhaps he wasn’t as broken as he thought he was. 

“We need to contact the Council and inform them we need a leave of absence,” Obi-Wan said. “Rex and Cody can command the 501st and 212th just as well as we can.”

“Better,” Anakin said with a grin. “They’re not half as reckless as we are.” 

Letting out a quiet chuckle, Obi-Wan nodded in acknowledgment. “I’ll contact the Council. You can prep a shuttle and come over to pick me up.” 

“Sounds good,” Anakin said, his grin fading a little. “Hey, Obi-Wan?” 

“Yes, Anakin?” he asked, sensing a turn in Anakin’s mood. He was more serious, more resolved. 

“There’s . . . there’s something I wanted to talk to you about, on our trip back to Coruscant,” Anakin said slowly, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck. 

Before he could assure Anakin that he would be happy to listen and help, Anakin rushed on. “I’ve been having dreams about Padmé dying in childbirth.” 

End, Chapter 3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a little extra time and turned out differently than I thought it would--mostly because Obi-Wan and Anakin insisted on being epic bros with a complicated relationship. :-) Hope you enjoy!

As Obi-Wan waited for Anakin to arrive on the  _ Vigilance _ , he turned over everything that had happened. It was . . . he still had a hard time believing everything he had learned tonight. Not just about Anakin, but about himself. 

There probably wasn’t enough time, but--but he needed to meditate. 

Sinking down onto the floor, he crossed his legs and settled his mind. He reached out, drawing the Force around himself and seeking its guidance. 

Whenever he tried to meditate on Coruscant, he always felt sluggish by the time he finished. Like he was covered in a slimy liquid, slowing his movements. At least here, in space, it felt a little easier to reach the Force. 

As he stretched out with his senses, he tried to let go of his worries and doubts. Tonight had reminded him of the dark days when he had begun training Anakin. When he was grieving his master while needing to act wise and all-knowing for Anakin’s sake. 

His doubts had slowly faded and Obi-Wan had thought he had moved past those emotions. He had thought he had released his insecurities into the Force and healed himself. But . . . but tonight showed he hadn’t really let go of those emotions. 

And there were other feelings he needed to let go of, feelings that were still with him. 

An image of Satine flashed through his mind, spitting mad and absolutely beautiful, before Obi-Wan shook his head and sank deeper into the Force. 

This deep, he could sense Anakin’s approach to his quarters. It allowed him to bring his meditation to a close and steady himself. So when Anakin pressed the panel outside the door, Obi-Wan was ready to rise and open the door for him. 

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, looking at him. Then, to Obi-Wan’s amazement, Anakin stepped forward and hugged him. 

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, slowly patting Anakin’s back. “I didn’t think things were so bad that we needed to start hugging . . .” 

Anakin let out a soft huff of laughter and pulled away. “I know you’re not comfortable with anything that shows attachment, but . . . but I think I’m done with not showing how I feel.” 

“So up until now, you  _ haven’t  _ been showing your emotions?” Obi-Wan asked with a quirked eyebrow. 

His former padawan only snickered. “Are you ready to go?” 

“I still have to contact the Council,” Obi-Wan said with a sigh. 

“Or . . .” 

“Or?” Obi-Wan asked, before shaking his head. “Oh, no. We can’t leave without informing the Council.” 

Anakin held up his hands. “Of course we have to tell the Council. But why not wait until we get to Coruscant?” 

“Because you’ll want to go right to Padmé without any delay instead of reporting to the Council?” Obi-Wan pointed out. “We can’t leave without permission.” 

Lowering his hands, Anakin got a mulish look on his face. “We’re Jedi and Generals.”

“Which doesn’t mean we operate without rules,” Obi-Wan said, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

A heavy sigh came from Anakin, along with a sense of resignation in his Force presence. “You’re right.” 

“If only I had thought to record that on my comm. Then I could play it back in fond remembrance of this moment,” Obi-Wan said dryly, looking at him. 

“Don’t ruin this, Master,” Anakin muttered. He straightened his robes and nodded to him. 

“You’re staying?” Obi-Wan asked in surprise. Normally, Anakin preferred to let him deal with the Council when they were in the field. 

He shrugged. “It’s only fair, since we’re asking for leave because of me.” 

Well, this was unexpected. In their earlier conversation, he had sensed Anakin’s resolve to change. It was a pleasant surprise to see him attempting to follow through so soon. 

Obi-Wan inputted the frequency for the Jedi Council, folding his hands into the sleeves of his robe as he waited. Even though it was approaching midnight on Coruscant, it did not take long for the face of Master Windu to appear. 

“Master Kenobi, Master Skywalker,” he greeted them, his sense indicating concern and mild confusion.

“Good evening, Master Windu,” Obi-Wan said. “All is well. However, both Anakin and I have a matter on Coruscant to attend to, so we will be returning to the capital and leaving the 212th and 501st in the capable hands of Commander Cody and Captain Rex.” 

“Oh?” Mace’s confusion shifted now into suspicion. “I wasn’t aware of anything occurring on Coruscant . . .” 

Obi-Wan maintained his calm, even as he felt Anakin twitch beside him. “It’s a personal matter, Master Windu.”

“A . . . personal matter,” Mace said, raising his eyebrows.

“Given the quiet at the moment, we did not see a problem with our request--” Obi-Wan said, only for Anakin to interrupt him. 

“Senator Amidala requested my presence, Master Windu.” 

If he wasn’t a Jedi, Obi-Wan would have shown his annoyance with Anakin. But since Anakin had thrown them into this gundark nest, he would have to get them out of it. Especially since without waiting for Mace to speak, Anakin plunged ahead. 

“The protocol droid that serves Senator Amidala was designed and built by me. I gave it to her three years ago, after my mission protecting her prior to the beginning of the war. Now 3-PO needs repairs, and no droid repair shops have been able to repair him. So the Senator requested my help, as soon as possible,” Anakin said firmly. 

Knowing Anakin as he did, Obi-Wan guessed that Padmé had helped him develop this story. It was all too plausible that Anakin would jump to tinker with a droid, and the fact that it would assist one of the Order’s biggest champions in the Senate would make such a request more likely to be granted. 

Yes, this had Padmé’s fingerprints all over it. It was perfectly designed to seem like an innocuous favor that was easy to grant. Which was probably why Mace agreed. 

“Very well, Master Skywalker,” he said, his face smoothing into his normal expression. “I look forward to seeing both you and Master Kenobi in person, instead of via holo. And to have your insight during the Council’s discussions.” 

“Of course,” Obi-Wan said with a bow. He gave Anakin a gentle nudge through their Force bond, and he also bowed. 

“May the Force be with you,” Mace said, signing off. 

As soon as the visual faded, Anakin let out a breath. “He went for it.” 

“I suppose,” Obi-Wan said, his mind turning. “Or he’d rather deal with us in person. Notice how he didn’t say anything about me coming along to help fix Padmé’s droid, when I’d be of no use in such a task.” 

Anakin shrugged. “We’ll deal with that later. Let’s go.” 

How many times in his life had he heard Anakin promise they would deal with something later, only for him to have to deal with the situation? Giving his head a shake, Obi-Wan followed Anakin into the corridor. 

They walked towards the hangar, Anakin falling quiet. Obi-Wan could tell he was distracted--probably thinking about Padmé. Worrying about Padmé, actually. 

These dreams Anakin had mentioned, seeing Padmé dying . . . it worried Obi-Wan. This wasn’t the first time Anakin had dreams that tied him into knots. And Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if his advice back then would work now. 

In fact, it hadn’t worked back then, either. 

Obi-Wan took a deep breath as he considered what he should do. What was it about Anakin that made all the wisdom of the Jedi Order, passed down over a thousand years, seem out-of-touch and wrong? 

“What is it, Master?” 

“Oh, just pondering your unique abilities,” Obi-Wan said lightly, not wanting to broach such a heavy topic of conversation while walking down the corridors of his ship. 

Anakin frowned. “That doesn’t sound good.” 

Smiling, he lightly patted Anakin on the shoulder. “We’ll talk about this on the shuttle.” 

He smiled wider as Anakin grumbled. But his smile fell as Anakin’s Force sense leaked cunning amusement. And then Anakin took advantage of his longer legs to race ahead of him to the hanger. 

“You are too old for this,” Obi-Wan protested, attempting to catch up with him. 

Anakin’s only response was a smile and to speed up, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help smiling back a little. He allowed Anakin to go ahead as he mulled over his current state. 

Normally, meditation settled him and brought him calm. But tonight, it felt like his emotions were more present, more vivid, than he had experienced in a long time. He wondered why this was happening. 

By the time he reached the shuttle, Anakin was halfway done with the start-up sequence. Obi-Wan dropped into the co-pilot’s seat but didn’t even bother putting his hands on the controls. Anakin had everything well in hand. 

Within a few moments, Anakin had pulled away from the  _ Vigilance  _ and sent the shuttle into hyperspace. Then he turned and looked at Obi-Wan. “We’re on the shuttle now.” 

Nodding, Obi-Wan turned to look at Anakin. “I was thinking about what happened the last time you talked to me about dreams that were bothering you.” 

XXX

At Obi-Wan’s words, it was all he could do not to curl up in a ball. 

The death of his mother was still a raw, festering sore at the center of his being. No matter how much power he might have, he would always feel guilty and weak and angry because he hadn’t been able to save her. 

And no matter what he did, he couldn’t seem to let it go. Like Obi-Wan had told him to do, like Padmé had gently suggested. If he let go of the pain . . . it would mean he was all right with losing his mother. And he would never be able to accept that.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said quietly, resting his hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help you before.” 

“I know,” he said, his voice hoarse as he tried to hold back tears. 

Obi-Wan gripped his shoulder and pushed, turning Anakin to face him. “I will do everything in my power to help you, Anakin. To not fail you again. So tell me more about your dreams with Padmé.” 

Taking a deep breath, he wiped a hand over his face and did his best to sit up straight. “I see her in pain . . . she’s calling out for me . . . the baby is coming and it’s . . . ” 

“Any other details?” 

Anakin shook his head. “No.” 

His master frowned, stroking his beard slowly before looking at him. “Do you think these dreams are prompted by the Force?” 

“What else could they be?” Anakin asked, feeling defensive. Because what was Obi-Wan trying to say?

“You care so deeply for people, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said softly. “With such a level of caring, it’s very easy for your mind to create horrors without any influence from the Force.” 

“I guess,” Anakin said, before feeling annoyed with himself. Just because Obi-Wan didn’t think this was the work of the Force was no reason to act like a child with him. 

He blew out a breath and rolled his shoulders. “So . . . how can I figure out if it’s just me, or if the Force is trying to tell me something?” He paused, then sighed. “Wait, don’t tell me.” 

Obi-Wan smiled fondly. “Meditation does help me sort through my feelings and determine how the Force is influencing me.” 

“I can’t remember the last time I meditated,” Anakin said. “The traditional way, at least.” 

“The traditional way?” Obi-Wan asked, sounding confused. 

“You know--sitting down, sinking into the Force, feeling the flow,” Anakin said, waving a hand in the air. 

Leaning back in his seat, Obi-Wan said, “As compared to you tinkering or flying to meditate?” 

Anakin nodded, trying not to squirm. For as long as he could remember, the only time he could truly achieve a meditative state was by doing something with his hands. It was only then that he was able to truly enter the flow of the Force. 

It was one more thing that made him feel he was failing at being a Jedi. 

“We haven’t meditated together in quite a long time. Perhaps that would help.” 

Now he really wanted to squirm. Even before he had married Padmé, he had held off on meditating with Obi-Wan. He hadn’t wanted to be exposed to his master’s true feelings about him. Because Obi-Wan must be disappointed in him or regretful that Anakin wasn’t more like him. 

And once he had married Padmé, he was too scared about Obi-Wan seeing something that would reveal the truth.

But Obi-Wan now knew about Padmé. And . . . and he had acted really upset at the thought of Anakin confessing the truth to the Council on his own to keep Obi-Wan out of it. He still couldn’t believe how angry Obi-Wan had gotten. 

Maybe . . . maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. 

“We’ve got a couple of hours until we reach Coruscant,” Anakin said, giving Obi-Wan his best attempt at a smile. “And I need something to keep me from just worrying about Padmé.” 

With his own slightly-strained smile, Obi-Wan rose from his chair and sank onto his knees on the durasteel deck plating. 

Taking the time to set the navcomputer to alert them for their entry into realspace, Anakin joined Obi-Wan, taking the same position. He breathed in and out a few times, seeking a measure of calm, before he looked to Obi-Wan.

With a nod, Obi-Wan closed his eyes. Anakin could feel him reaching through their Force bond, and he closed his eyes as well as he reached back. 

In the past, Obi-Wan’s Force presence had always felt like a wide, endless ocean. As a child, all that water had been so strange, so amazing--mirroring Anakin’s feelings about Obi-Wan. As he grew older, though, those calm waves made Anakin feel comforted and supported. 

Right now, though, there were signs of Obi-Wan’s distress, in the height and strength of the waves, the dark skies. But there was also sunlight. It wasn’t hopeless--but then, Obi-Wan never seemed to lose hope. 

Anakin felt himself relaxing, settling, sensing the Force in a new way. He could feel how the galaxy was connected, could feel the light of so many people. And he could focus on those feelings more than he could in his usual meditations. 

Faintly, he could feel Obi-Wan supporting him as he searched for the truth about Padmé and his dreams. Was the Force warning him? Or was it simply his mind, projecting his greatest fear into nightmares?

Memories brushed past him as he sought answers. He saw Master Qui-Gon smiling fondly and Ahsoka walking away from him. His hands clutched the handles of his podracer and his right arm burned from Dooku’s lightsaber cut. The feel of his first kiss with Padmé and his mother’s arms around him. Obi-Wan’s soft laughter and Padmé crying out that he was breaking her heart. Maul screamed “KENOBI!” and a youngling looked up at Anakin with fear in his eyes. 

The Duchess Satine, softly touching Obi-Wan’s beard. Padmé, smiling at him as she held up a blanket-wrapped baby. And the Chancellor, his eyes cold and sunken in an incredibly wrinkled face, cackling as he . . . as he duelled with  _ Master Yoda _ ?

In unison, both Anakin and Obi-Wan broke free of their meditation, their chests heaving. Anakin felt his skin crawl at what he had seen. 

Obi-Wan stared at him, almost panting. “A-Anakin?” he said breathlessly. 

“Was that the future?” he asked bleakly, still trying to catch his breath but--but needing to know he wasn’t the only one scared by this vision. 

“I--I don’t know,” Obi-Wan said, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“The Chancellor duelling with Master Yoda? That--that can’t be real,” Anakin said, rising to his feet to pace. He nearly stumbled on the hem of his robes as he turned to look at Obi-Wan. “Because that would mean the Chancellor--”

Anakin shook his head, cutting off his words as he turned away from Obi-Wan. Because it was  _ not possible _ that Chancellor Palpatine was a Sith Lord. He was completely blank in the Force, with no sensitivity at all! 

“She wasn’t wearing the headdress.” 

“Huh?” Anakin said, looking at Obi-Wan. 

His former master looked up at Anakin, his eyes bleak. “Satine. That image of her? It wasn’t a memory.” 

For a moment, he wondered if Obi-Wan was seeing what he wanted to see. But using a technique to improve short-term and long-term memory, Anakin realized he was right. 

In his memory of seeing Satine flirt with Obi-Wan about his beard, her face was framed by a headdress, with lilies braided into her hair. But in what they had both just seen, Satine’s soft blonde hair hung loose about her face. 

He opened his mouth to ask Obi-Wan if Satine had ever worn her hair like that, but something made him stop. Because he had also seen Padmé, holding up their child to him . . . 

She survived childbirth. She  _ lived _ . She wasn’t going to die!

A soft chime startled Anakin, making him look around wildly for a moment, before he realized it was the alarm for dropping out of hyperspace. And there, filling the viewscreen, was Coruscant. 

Anakin looked at Obi-Wan. “Now we really have a lot to talk about.” 

Obi-Wan nodded and smiled wanly. “But first, we have to get to Padmé.”

He couldn’t agree more--this close to the planet, he could sense Padmé and feel the pain she was in. There wasn’t a moment to waste. 

So Anakin sat in the pilot’s chair to prepare for entry into Coruscant’s atmosphere, while Obi-Wan slowly pulled himself into the co-pilot seat to request permission to land. 

XXX

When she blinked her eyes open, it felt like the middle of the night. Not just because she could see moonlight turning the dark walls into pastel shades, but because she felt the same pain in her heart, the one that only seemed present in those quiet hours before dawn. 

Or maybe it was just her body, still healing, giving her that sharp pain in her chest. 

With a gentle exhale to push away her thoughts, she carefully eased herself upright and ran a hand over her head. Her hair was shorn close to her scalp and she still wasn’t used to the short bristles. 

She needed more rest, she knew. Rubbing her eyes, she shifted to lay down, only for a soft vibration to go through her body. From the comm unit she kept tucked under her pillow.

There was only one person who had her comm frequency. 

Even as her body protested her quick movements, she reached out for her comm and answered it. 

A blue-tinged image appeared before her and her breath caught in relief at the sight of her sister. 

Bo-Katan looked at her levelly, her helmet tucked under her arm. Her eyes held hers as she spoke. 

“It’s time, Satine.” 

End, Chapter 4


	5. Chapter 5

There was a disturbance in the Force. 

Most beings would stand in the office of the Supreme Chancellor and, if their attention was not held by being in the presence of the most powerful man in the galaxy, be entirely focused on the view through the transparisteel windows. No matter the hour, traffic surged around Coruscant’s buildings, moving its two trillion citizens to workplaces or home or recreation sites. 

But for Darth Sidious, Coruscant was only a drop of water in the ocean when it came to his interests. In truth, the entirety of the known galaxy was simply where he would start--but with the vast unexplored regions, there were so many beings, unaffiliated with the Republic yet, that he would bring under his control one day.

That would be his glorious future. Whenever he considered it, the Force swirled in a dark, soothing mass around him. In the present moment, however, he could sense something changing. Something that felt wrong. 

Reaching out, Sidious focused on the change. It seemed to be coalesced around certain people, and his lips twisted into a snarl as he realized just who the Force was working upon. 

Senator Padmé Amidala. Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. And most troubling of all: Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker. 

If it was simply the matter of Amidala’s brat being born soon, he would understand this stirring. Anakin’s offspring would be powerful in the Force. And when his child came without its father being present, Anakin would blame the Jedi Order. It would be another wedge between his future apprentice and the Jedi High Council. 

But it wasn’t just the “happy couple” at the center of the Force’s gyrations. What did the Force care about Kenobi in this moment? 

Before he could begin to explore the disturbance further, his comm chimed and he had to take a moment to smooth his face into something suitable for Chancellor Palpatine. 

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could bear to keep up the pretense. To wait for his destiny. Especially with the Force’s newfound movement, being more active than it had been in decades. It was practically dancing. 

Tapping his finger on the button, he accepted the comm and growled, “Yes?” 

“Good evening, Chancellor,” Mas Amedda said, his voice dripping with deferential courtesy. “There is action in the Senate on another clone rights bill--”

“Another bill which will go nowhere,” Sidious ordered. “There are no clone rights.”

Amedda bowed, but his sense hummed with a subtle resentment. “I am attempting to do as you wish, Chancellor, however, I have received word that the Kaminoans supporting this latest bill.”

“Their Senator is weak,” he sniffed. “Clearly, this is a ploy, in preparation for our upcoming negotiations.” 

“Yes, Chancellor,” Amedda said. 

The lack of initiative in Amedda was becoming more and more of a problem. But on the other hand, his loyalty was unquestioning. Any servant’s gifts came with tradeoffs, Sidious acknowledged to himself. 

“I will speak to the Kaminoans. Keep the Senate in line and kill the very idea of clone rights,” Sidious said.

Amedda inclined his head. “Yes, Chancellor. Have a good evening.” 

Without any further words, Sidious ended the comm and looked out at the view once again. He reached for the Force but found his insight was . . . blocked. All he could feel was a disgusting light. He grimaced and turned back to his desk. 

These infernal petty problems--clone rights, war strategy, the Senate’s bickering--soon, none of them would matter. Soon, the galaxy would answer to him. 

And so would the Force. 

XXX

Although most of Naboo’s population wasn’t overtly religious, Sabé had been brought up in a family that was less spiritual than most. She had always focused on the here and now, on her own actions, instead of thinking about what came after death. And she had been satisfied with her life and what she would accomplish before she died, without the assistance of any gods or goddesses. 

Yet she had begun to reconsider her perspective. Because seeing her best friend in such pain made her wish she could call upon a deity for help. 

“Don’t push, Senator,” Gahan urged her as Sabé held her hand. “Not quite yet.” 

Padmé nodded, her teeth gritted. The contraction passed and she slumped back on the bed, breathing hard. 

Sabé lifted a damp cloth and sponged Padmé’s forehead. “You’re doing so well, Padmé,” she soothed her. “Just a little longer.” 

Nodding a little, Padmé closed her eyes. “Where’s Anakin? Is he here yet?” 

“Soon--he’ll get here soon,” Sabé promised. “Master Kenobi messaged me when they entered orbit around Coruscant.” 

“Master Kenobi?” Padmé said, blinking. “Obi-Wan is coming?” 

With a shrug of her shoulders, Sabé said, “Yes?” 

Padmé still looked confused, but then she smiled weakly. “That’s--that’s good. I’m glad. Anakin--Anakin is scared for me--he’ll need Obi-Wan.” 

Anakin wasn’t the only one who was scared, Sabé thought. She glanced at Healer Gahan, who remained as calm and steady as a pond. But it seemed to her that the healer’s calm was very practiced. Like she was pretending for Padmé’s sake. 

“Sabé . . . could I please have some juice?” 

Before Sabé could reply, the healer said smoothly, “I’m afraid that’s not wise, Senator. But you may have some ice chips.” 

“I’ll get them for you, Padmé,” Sabé said, giving her forehead another quick wipe before heading to the kitchen. 

The healer followed her, which was fine with Sabé. As soon as they were out of earshot, she whirled around and pinned the Mon Cal with her glare. “What’s wrong with Padmé?” 

“Nothing more than she is in labor,” Gahan said, her large, glassy eyes blinking. “The Senator is a small woman; she will need to be fully dilated to deliver safely. There is also her anxiety about her husband being here. That is unfortunately increasing her pain, too. I’m sure as soon as her husband arrives, the Senator will have an easier time of it.” 

Sabé breathed out, feeling her shoulders slump. “I’m sorry.” 

“You are a good friend to the Senator,” the healer said politely. “I have one more scan to run on the Senator--I do find the Senator’s condition concerning, but I believe with this final scan, we will be well-prepared for the delivery.” 

“All right,” Sabé said. “I’ll get the ice chips for Padmé. Thank you, Healer Gahan.” 

“You’re welcome,” the healer said with a nod of her head before returning to Padmé’s room. 

Something still seemed not quite right to Sabé, but then, she had never been part of something like this before. She didn’t have older sisters and Padmé was the first of her friends to become pregnant. And she never had any thought of having children herself. 

All of this was as new to her as it was to Padmé. And Padmé needed her right now. 

That meant she shouldn’t stand around worrying. She should get those ice chips and get back to Padmé. 

With a shake of her head, Sabé did what was needed. With a large glass brimming with ice, she walked back into the bedroom, just in time to hear Padmé say, in a loud voice, “What?!?”

“What is it, Padmé?” Sabé asked, stepping over towards her. 

Padmé looked up at Sabé, her eyes wide and dark and, for the first time ever, full of fear for her life. 

XXX

He knew what he should be focusing on. The idea that the Chancellor was a Sith Lord . . . it was horrifying, terrifying. Not just for what it could mean for the galaxy, but because how could the Jedi not realize this? How had Palpatine hidden his power, to the extent that he read as a non-Force-sensitive? 

Yet all Obi-Wan could think about was Satine. 

The Satine in the meditation he had shared with Anakin . . . he had never seen her like that. Her hair loose around her face, but shorter than he had ever seen it. Her face was as beautiful as ever, but there were new lines around her eyes, hinting at age--or pain. And her jumpsuit, dirty and faded, was a far cry from her regal gowns. Not even during their year on the run had she allowed herself to look so bedraggled.

It all pointed towards a Force vision, a glimpse into the future. But . . . how could it be true? How could Satine be alive? 

Meditation usually calmed him, gave him answers to the questions he sought. But this time, all he had were questions. And given the current situation, it would be up to him to find the answers.

Obi-Wan glanced over at Anakin, who was gripping the speeder controls so hard, his knuckles were white. 

Yes, definitely up to him. 

Not that he could fault Anakin for his distraction. Not with his worries for Padmé. And Anakin could never focus on anything else if someone he cared about was in trouble. It was a quality which had provoked Obi-Wan to exasperation at times--but also to gratitude, since otherwise, he might not be alive. 

Obi-Wan took a breath and sought for Padmé’s presence amid the trillions of souls on the surface of Coruscant. Once he found her, he winced at the pain radiating off her. But the strength underneath that pain gave him hope. 

Looking over at Anakin, Obi-Wan spoke in a raised tone, to be heard over the wind whipping past the speeder’s canopy. “Padmé seems to be handling her pain well.” 

If anything, his attempt at reassurance backfired, because Anakin sped up. “She shouldn’t ever be in pain,” he said, his jaw tight. 

“Some pain is unavoidable, Anakin--you know this,” Obi-Wan said, trying to keep his voice gentle. 

He shook his head, his distress plain to see. Obi-Wan reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder. 

“I know I should be worrying about what we saw,” Anakin said slowly, his eyes focused on the view through the windshield. “About the Chancellor . . . and about Satine. But all I can think about is Padmé. About my dreams.” 

“I understand, Anakin, I do,” Obi-Wan said. “But I saw Padmé holding a baby in our vision. We both saw that. It seems the Force itself says her future is not what you saw in your dreams.”

“Then what do my dreams mean? They felt so real, Obi-Wan . . .” 

Anakin’s voice sounded miserable. He was flying without his usual smooth fluidity, jerking the steering column to get around obstacles in their path. 

“Crashing the speeder won’t help Padmé or solve the question of what will happen,” Obi-Wan said crisply. “And Padmé is going to need you to be calm and supportive.” 

His former Padawan gave him a look dripping with frustration, but at least he slowed the speeder and took a few deep breaths. Obi-Wan sent him a gentle swell of peace and hope, which helped reduce a little of the fear in Anakin’s presence. Enough that his face smoothed and his thoughts seemed to untangle. 

“I’m sorry,” Anakin said after a moment.

“I know,” Obi-Wan said. 

Glancing at Anakin, Obi-Wan found himself thinking. No matter how much Obi-Wan had taught him to avoid attachment, Anakin seemed completely unable to do so. And it troubled Obi-Wan, seeing Anakin be so fearful of loss. Not simply because of the danger of giving in to that fear . . . but also, how did such a reaction impact the people that Anakin cared about? 

Over the years, Obi-Wan had observed Anakin being wildly overprotective of Padmé, even though she was very capable of defending herself. What if, at some point in the future, Anakin’s worry came into conflict with Padmé’s sense of independence? How would Anakin handle that--and how would Padmé?

It made him think of that year with Satine. How Qui-Gon had taught him to respect Satine’s autonomy. To not take over tasks simply because he was a Jedi--to let her learn so she could help herself. 

“If we give someone a fish, they eat today,” Master Qui-Gon would tell him. “But if we teach someone to fish, they will eat every day for the rest of their lives.” 

That approach always seemed to be successful, even though it conflicted with his sense of personal responsibility. When had he stopped believing in teaching people and begun taking over? Was it the war--the lives he felt responsible for? Or was it a flaw within himself?

Perhaps he had failed Anakin, by simply taking a black-and-white approach to attachment, instead of teaching him all the shades of gray that came from having relationships. And perhaps Anakin had taken the wrong message from his stance on avoiding attachments. 

Given what he knew about Obi-Wan’s own feelings for Satine . . . it was quite likely Anakin saw him as a hypocrite. Which would explain why Anakin had never told Obi-Wan about his marriage.

It was something to consider going forward, Obi-Wan acknowledged. Something he would want to talk to Anakin about, after the baby had arrived and Anakin saw that Padmé would be all right. 

The Jedi had always believed that Padawan and Master learned from each other. Somewhere along the way, though, he had stopped learning, and it had cost both of them. But at least now that he could see his failings, he could work to correct them. He could help Anakin. 

The speeder coming to a stop snapped Obi-Wan out of his thoughts and he looked around. Anakin had docked the speeder at the private landing platform by Padmé’s apartment, but . . . he wasn’t moving. 

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked. “We’re here.” 

“I--I know,” he said, his hands clasped together tightly in his lap. 

This was odd. Obi-Wan frowned and gently touched Anakin’s shoulder. Under his fingertips, Anakin’s muscles felt like rocks. 

His Force presence reminded Obi-Wan of a bantha on the verge of stampeding. Terrified, uncertain, wanting to move yet wanting to stay still . . . 

He opened his mouth to prod Anakin, to remind him of Padmé, only to stop and shake his head. Of course Anakin didn’t need a reminder of Padmé in this moment. 

“I promise you, Anakin, Padmé is not going to die.” 

“You--you can’t--you can’t promise that, Master,” Anakin said, his voice hitching. 

“Yes, I can,” Obi-Wan said, his voice equal parts gentle and firm. “Because Padmé is strong and loves you very much. And I’m sure she loves your child just as much. She is not about to leave you both behind.” 

Anakin’s blue eyes were full of tears when he looked at Obi-Wan. “You--you think so?” 

Obi-Wan smiled, putting all his reassurance and confidence into his voice and his presence. “I know so. Now, come along. I wouldn’t want to tell Padmé that I had to drag you to her side.” 

“Ohhhh, I’d be in so much trouble,” Anakin said. He sprang to his feet and somersaulted over Obi-Wan’s head, landing lightly and taking off for the entrance to the apartment from the landing platform.

With only a pause to chuckle, Obi-Wan hurried after Anakin, following him to what must be Padmé’s bedroom--to their bedroom. 

The moment he stepped into the room, Obi-Wan felt like he was intruding. Anakin paused on his way to Padmé only to give Obi-Wan a look that told him not to leave. And then Anakin was kneeling on the bed and taking Padmé’s hand, smiling at her. 

“Hi, angel,” he said softly, his voice filled with so much love. It made Obi-Wan swallow as he realized just how much Anakin loved Padmé. 

“Ani,” she breathed out, looking up at him. The Senator’s face was flushed, her hair sticking to her temples from the sweat trickling down her forehead. “Ani, you’re here.” 

There was something strange in Padmé’s presence, Obi-Wan thought. A trace of fear, a few flickers of uncertainty, just underneath a wave of joy.

“Of course I am,” he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. 

“Mr. Naberrie, I presume,” the Mon Cal healer said from the foot of the bed, where she was doing something between Padmé’s spread and bent legs. 

Obi-Wan quickly looked away, catching Anakin’s wide-eyed, pleased smile. Anakin didn’t correct the healer when he spoke. “Yes--how is she doing?” 

“Very well, other than a little surprise,” the healer said in an unruffled voice. 

Sabé, holding Padmé’s other hand, snorted and Anakin frowned. 

“A surprise?” he asked, looking over at Obi-Wan with a worried expression before looking back at Padmé.

Padmé nodded and gripped Anakin’s hand, a wide smile lighting up her tired face. “Oh, Ani--it’s twins!”

End, Chapter 5


	6. Chapter 6

Twins?  _ Twins _ ?!?

How had he not realized that? He didn’t even have to reach out in the Force to notice the two lives within Padmé’s body. They were so blazing bright, so alive--too great a power to be a single baby. 

He had been blind. About so many things lately. 

Padmé gripped his hand, wincing. “Ani . . .” 

“What is it?” he asked, feeling panic overtake him.

She winced again, but then smiled at him. “Our children are just as impatient as you are.” 

Children. They were having children! More than one! 

A gentle prodding from Obi-Wan, an unspoken message of  _ get yourself together, Anakin! _ resounded through their Force bond.

Taking a few deep breaths, Anakin did his best to release his panic into the Force. Obi-Wan was right--Padmé needed him to be supportive instead of acting like a fool who had never heard of a woman having twins before. 

“I bet I’m not the only impatient one in this room,” Anakin said, smoothing back Padmé’s hair. Sabé pushed a damp cloth into his hand and Anakin smiled at her quickly before sponging Padmé’s forehead. 

His beautiful, amazing wife smiled up at him. “Obi-Wan, right?” 

Anakin snickered as Obi-Wan snorted in disdain. 

“So this is what I’ve been missing out on,” Obi-Wan said as he stepped closer to the bed. “Padmé, is there anything I can do? Anyone you would like me to contact or anything to arrange?” 

Padmé shook her head. “No . . . Sabé took care of everything earlier.” 

“I did,” Sabé agreed. “Everything’s ready--Dormé is going to be appearing in the Senate while you recover. And while we didn’t plan for twins, the nursery has enough supplies for the next few days.” 

That reminder made Anakin swallow. He had wanted to help with the nursery, but only a few days after Padmé had told him she was pregnant, the Outer Rim sieges had started and he had needed to report for duty. 

But now, he had a second chance, Anakin realized. He could stay with Padmé for the next few days, and he could help with putting together a second crib, ordering more tiny baby clothes--all the things he had missed. 

Looking down at Padmé, he smiled softly at her. “Okay, angel?” 

She nodded. “I’m so glad you’re here, Ani.” 

“Me, too,” he said, kissing her forehead lightly. 

“All right, now that Mr. Naberrie is here, we can begin the Senator’s delivery,” the Mon Cal healer said. “The room needs to be cleared.” 

Anakin did his best to smile at Obi-Wan, savoring the support from his former Master, while Padmé and Sabé spoke quietly to each other. And then, Obi-Wan escorted Sabé out of the room, leaving Anakin and Padmé alone with the healer. 

“Now, Mr. Naberrie, you’ll want to support the Senator’s head and torso,” the healer said in a soothing voice. “Senator, I’m going to check your dilation and the position of the twins. Just breathe and try to relax.” 

With a nod, Anakin quickly shifted to sit behind Padmé, drawing her shoulders back against his chest. “All right?” 

“Yes,” Padmé said, a strange catch in her voice. Her swallow was practically audible. 

“Padmé?” he asked, hoping his worry didn’t come through in his voice. 

“It--it just feels odd . . .” Padmé said, gesturing to the healer between her legs. 

From her sense in the Force, Anakin could feel her uncertainty, her own worry. And all he wanted was to make her feel better. Help her feel calm and prepared for what was to come--even though he wasn’t really sure what was to come. Other than two babies.

All the time he was away, fighting battles and dealing with Jedi business, he had wanted to be with Padmé, helping her and loving her. And through some turn of the Force or luck or something even more magical, he was actually here when she needed him most. He wasn’t about to waste this chance. 

Those dreams of his didn’t mean anything now. The very idea that Padmé could die in childbirth felt like utter nonsense. Not with the vision he had shared with Obi-Wan, not when he was holding Padmé and waiting for their children to be born. 

Giving her shoulders a gentle rub, he dropped a kiss on top of her head. “I’m right here, angel. You can do this.” 

She craned her head a little to look up at him. “I hope you’re not trying to use a mind trick on me.” 

Anakin couldn’t help the wide smile he gave her. “I don’t need to do that. Because I know how strong and capable and amazing you are.” 

Her lower lip wobbled before Padmé took a deep breath. “Thank you, Ani.” 

“Just speaking the truth,” Anakin said with a smile. 

Padmé suddenly drew in a breath and the healer spoke. “All right, Senator, you’re ready. You are fully dilated and the twins are well-positioned. We shouldn’t have any complications.” 

“Thank the Force,” Anakin whispered into Padmé’s hair. 

Nodding, she looked up at him. Her eyes were full of thousands of words and emotions, and Anakin felt tears cloud his vision until he quickly rubbed them away with one hand.

Her soft, warm, loving smile made his heart fill with hope. Then her face twisted and she looked at the healer. “Push?” Padmé asked, her muscles rigid with tension.

The healer nodded. “Yes, Senator, push!” 

Anakin felt an onrush of emotion as Padmé began to push. Determination and strength and love from Padmé . . . and a wild churning of half-formed feelings. 

The twins! 

Even as Padmé gripped his mech hand, Anakin closed his eyes and reached out in the Force. He sent waves of love and support and encouragement and peace towards his children. 

_ We’re here. Mama and Daddy are here. We can’t wait to meet you. We love you.  _

And to Anakin’s delighted, amazed shock, he could feel one of the babies respond. Its fear eased . . . and then it reached out to its twin and did the same for them. 

In his whole entire life, Anakin had never felt anything so pure. So full of the light side of the Force. 

It was like he was being born for a second time. 

“Push, Senator! Push!” the healer said, her calm fracturing slightly for the first time. 

Anakin was sure he heard a crack from his mech hand as Padmé grunted. But it didn’t matter, as he whispered encouragement to Padmé while she brought the first of their children into the galaxy.

XXX

After her conversation with Bo, there was no way she could go back to sleep. Of course, Satine attempted to do so--a proper recovery hinged on sleep, the healers kept telling her. And she agreed with them. 

But right now, her recovery had to come second to the needs of her people. 

Rising slowly, Satine picked up her thick robe and drew it around herself. She stepped over to the window, leaning against the transparisteel as she looked over the desert of her homeworld--her true homeworld. 

She had been born on Kalevala, and it was to Kalevala she had been brought when on the verge of death. Now that she would survive, Satine felt like it was a sign. She had been left for dead after Maul had run her through, yet somehow, she had survived. Just like Kalevala and its people, despite the toxicity of its air and land.

It gave her hope: for Kalevala, for Mandalore, for the Council of Neutral Systems . . . and for more personal matters as well. 

Like her relationship with her sister. 

Bo had been the one to rescue her. Defying her fellow members of Death Watch, she had insisted on taking Satine’s body away. 

“I thought the least I could do was give you a proper burial,” Bo had told Satine. “But then, we got you on the ship and we realized that somehow, you were still alive.”

“Disappointed?” Satine had managed to ask. Because even if she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer, she had to know. 

Her sister had looked down, her severe bob of red hair ruffled and hanging around her face. She had slowly shaken her head, and Satine had felt so overcome she had taken Bo’s hand and grasped it tightly. 

That had been the turning point for them. Satine still couldn’t exactly define their relationship, but . . . she couldn’t have gotten here without Bo. 

A soft noise outside her bedroom made her turn her head quickly, straightening up with a wince. Putting a hand to her side, she breathed for a moment, then slowly stepped towards the door. She paused only long enough to pick up the disrupter Bo had given her when she had left. This small home was remote and isolated, and she certainly wasn’t without protectors, but Satine Kryze would never allow herself to be totally defenseless. 

When she opened the door, it was easy to take in most of the small sitting room. There was a window directly across from her, giving another view of the Kalevalan desert. A small loveseat and a chair took up most of the room, positioned by a practically antique holo unit. At the far end of the room was a table and two chairs, where Satine and her protector took their meals.

And said protector was sitting on the floor, in the circle of light cast by a small lamp, her head bowed as she meditated. 

“I didn’t wake you, I hope,” Satine said, moving further into the room and slipping her disruptor into the pocket of her robe. 

“Not at all,” Ahsoka Tano, former Jedi Padawan, said. She opened her eyes and looked up at Satine, some of her seriousness drifting away as she smiled. “I felt a strange vibration in the Force and wished to meditate on it.” 

“Something bad?” Satine asked as she slowly settled herself in the chair, facing Ahsoka. 

As she shook her head, her head tails moving, Ahsoka smiled wider. “No. Something good. Like . . . hope.” 

“Hope for what?” she asked curiously. 

Despite all the time she had spent with the Jedi--yet another reason Death Watch had hated her--Satine still didn’t understand their belief in the Force. How could a Jedi be so willing to give themselves over to such a murky, mysterious thing? Of course she could respect the Jedi for their faith, just like she respected any other religious practitioner, but it all seemed so impractical to believe in something like the Force. 

Impractical . . . and dangerous. 

Ahsoka smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. But it definitely seems centered on Anakin and Obi-Wan, so I see it as a good thing.” 

Would her heart ever not flutter at the mention of Obi-Wan’s name? Not even the embarrassment of confessing her love to him just before she ‘died’ could keep her treacherous heart stable when it came to him. 

Giving her head a small shake, Satine did her best to smile at Ahsoka. “Then I will join you in believing this to be a good thing.” 

With her typical grace, Ahsoka rose to her feet. “Would you like some tea? It might help you sleep.” 

“I thought you said I didn’t wake you up,” Satine said with an arched eyebrow. 

“And I said you didn’t,” Ahsoka replied, her grin becoming a bit toothier, as if daring Satine to argue with her. 

But Satine knew better than to argue with Ahsoka. So with a sigh, she nodded her head and said, “Yes, thank you.” 

Now alone, Satine leaned back in her chair, gazing out the window. With Bo’s news, she knew her time for reflection and recovery was coming to an end. Soon--within a few days--she would have to come out of hiding, reveal how she had survived and the truth of her attack. Because it was but one piece of a larger plan. A plan to warp the galaxy into something truly devastating. 

She had spent so many years doing her duty. Putting it first in her life. If she did this--if she once again did her duty, might she have finally done enough? Could she maybe discover who she was, beyond being the Duchess of Mandalore and leader of the Council of Neutral Systems? 

“Are you all right, Satine?” Ahsoka asked as she returned to the sitting room, carrying two cups filled with fragrant tea. 

Satine took her tea and gently blew on the surface before looking up at Ahsoka. “Bo contacted me.” 

“Ah,” the young Togruta said, sitting on the floor again and folding her legs. “Not just to check up on you, I guess?” 

Shaking her head, Satine had a moment of missing the brush of her hair against her neck and shoulders. She ran a hand over her hair before letting out a sigh. “It’s time, she said.” 

Ahsoka’s eyes widened. “She’s checked out the tip?” 

“Enough that she feels confident in its validity. Now we alert the  _ jetii  _ and see if they’re willing to do anything, for once,” Satine said, hearing the disdain in her voice and feeling a flicker of self-reproach. Her own feelings for the Jedi notwithstanding, it was rude to speak so around Ahsoka. 

Thankfully, it seemed Ahsoka wasn’t paying attention to Satine’s impolite words. “Is Bo going to contact them?” 

“That’s what she said,” Satine said. She tilted her head. “Do you have another idea?” 

“I do,” Ahsoka said. 

XXX

The moment they stepped into the hallway, Sabé had looked at him and said firmly, “Tea. We need tea.” 

And then the former handmaiden walked with long strides towards the kitchen. 

Lacking anything better to do and not wishing to eavesdrop on the birth of Anakin and Padmé’s children, Obi-Wan followed Sabé. Once he stepped into the kitchen, he watched as Sabé prepared the tea. 

Her movements were controlled and precise, but Obi-Wan sensed this was her way of not falling apart. He could understand that. 

“I hope Padmé wasn’t too uncomfortable while she waited for our arrival,” he said, curious to hear what had happened after Sabé had ended their comm. 

“She’s Padmé. She won’t tell you she’s hurting unless her head’s fallen off,” Sabé said, giving him a lopsided smile before growing serious again. “At least she allowed me to call a healer. And finally told me she was having contractions, instead of trying to hide them.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “Especially with having twins, having a healer here seems necessary.” 

With a nod, Sabé finished and turned to look at him while waiting for the water to boil. “I wanted to apologize to you.” 

“Me?”

Sabé nodded. “I didn’t realize you had no knowledge of Master Skywalker’s relationship with the Senator.” There was a hesitation before she said ‘relationship’, like she hadn’t been sure what word to use.

His lips twisted and he leaned back to stroke his beard. “I didn’t. I suspected, of course. I knew he felt strongly about her. But I was less sure about whether the Senator reciprocated those feelings. And I had no idea that Anakin would disobey the Jedi Code to marry Padmé.” 

“I was pretty surprised by it, too,” Sabé said. “Because it’s a risk for Padmé. She’s already been accused of being too cozy with the Jedi, from what Dormé and the others have told me. After this gets out . . .” 

“Do you think the current queen will ask her to step down?” Obi-Wan asked, his mind working. 

“Queen Apailana and Padmé have a very strong working relationship. They see eye-to-eye on many things. But on the other hand, the Chancellor also has a lot of influence on Naboo, and I don’t know how he’d feel about Padmé marrying a Jedi,” Sabé said. 

The Chancellor. Obi-Wan swallowed as he pondered the most famous citizen of Naboo. The man who had mentored Padmé and shown a clear partiality towards Anakin.

Was it really possible the Chancellor was a Sith Lord? He felt a shiver of cold go down his spine as he remembered the vision of Palpatine fighting Master Yoda. The vision hadn’t been long enough for him to see how the fight was going. But as a sign of the Chancellor’s true colors? The vision certainly made it clear who he really was. 

So if the vision was true, Anakin had been singled out by a Sith Lord. And Obi-Wan didn’t like what that meant. 

“Do you know much about the Chancellor? His family, his past?” Obi-Wan asked. 

Sabé wrinkled her nose as she thought. She took a sip of tea before speaking. “He was the last of his family line, I believe, but they had been fairly influential on Naboo in the past. He became involved in politics as a young man, and served as Senator up until the Trade Federation’s invasion when he was elected Chancellor, as you remember.” 

He wasn’t quite able to hide his chagrin at Sabé knowing so little, and the young woman sighed. “I know. He’s just very private. Always acting like your nice old grandfather.” 

“Hmmm . . .” Obi-Wan said, stroking his beard again. A nice old grandfather: it was a good description of Palpatine. Yet there had always been something about the Chancellor that put Obi-Wan on edge. He had always thought it was his natural dislike of politicians, but what if it was more than that? What if he had sensed something--something from the Force--that he had discounted because Palpatine seemed so guileless, so harmless?

It would certainly bear more thought. And he was eager to get Anakin’s opinion on this idea. Padmé would also want to have some input, he guessed. But he wasn’t sure how soon they would be able to discuss this, not with two newborns. 

Perhaps he should go to the Council on his own . . . 

Obi-Wan frowned as he felt a powerful nudge in his solar plexus. Like the Force had just elbowed him in the stomach. It wasn’t often he got such a sign, but when he did receive one, he knew he had to listen. 

Shaking his head, Obi-Wan picked up his tea and sipped it slowly, mulling over all of this. Until he could meditate, he wasn’t sure he could make any decisions. But it seemed that waiting, taking the time to fully evaluate the idea of Palpatine as a Sith Lord, was the wiser course. 

Besides, there was no way Anakin could be left out of this. He couldn’t see how the Jedi would be successful, going up against any Sith, without Anakin’s help. And if Palpatine was the Sith Lord they had been searching for? He must be incredibly powerful. Stronger than any Jedi except Anakin. 

“Obi-Wan? Sabé?” 

Even as Anakin called out for them, his voice bubbling over with excitement and joy, Obi-Wan and Sabé were already on their feet and hurrying out of the kitchen. When Obi-Wan saw Anakin, he couldn’t help smiling. 

“A boy and a girl!” Anakin said, his whole face lit up with happiness. “Both healthy. And Padmé is perfect and alive, and--and--” He stopped and took a deep breath, rubbing his hand over his face. 

“That’s wonderful news, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, stepping forward and resting a hand on his shoulder. 

Anakin nodded, still beaming as he turned to look at his wife’s friend. “Sabé, the healer asked for you to help her with Padmé now that the birth is over.”

“Of course,” Sabé said with a smile. “Congratulations.” 

As soon as the door closed behind Sabé, Obi-Wan squeezed Anakin’s shoulder. “See? Your dreams were wrong.” 

“I know,” Anakin said sheepishly. “Of course Padmé wouldn’t let anything take her away from the twins.” 

“Or from you,” Obi-Wan reassured him. 

He smiled and nodded. “Do you want to see the twins?” 

“I certainly do--” Obi-Wan began to say, only for the chime of his comm to interrupt him. 

“Can’t it wait?” Anakin asked, sounding a bit impatient. 

Obi-Wan understood that, but if the last day had taught him anything, a late-night comm could change your life. 

“It won’t take long,” Obi-Wan said, answering the comm. “This is Obi-Wan Kenobi.” 

For a moment, there was no answer and no video. He was just about ready to end the comm and chalk it up to a misdial, when the holoprojector flickered to life. 

And Obi-Wan felt his heart clutch in his chest, Anakin’s gasp of surprise louder than it really was, at who they saw. 

“Hello, Masters,” said Ahsoka Tano. “I hope this is a good time.” 

End, Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anakin's reaction to the twins as Padmé is giving birth was greatly inspired by Leia's experience in The Last Command, the third book in the Thrawn trilogy. I always loved the way Timothy Zahn described Leia reaching out to Jaina and Jacen and how they responded, so I used it here. 
> 
> I'm anticipating that it'll be another 2-3 chapters to wrap this fic up, so something around 10 chapters in total. I'm really excited about what I'm planning for this fic--thank you to everyone for reading.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit of an emotional roller-coaster, so I apologize for the way the tone veers all over the place. But then, there's a lot of really emotional stuff happening!
> 
> Also, I made a small change to Chapter 5, since I realized that Kamino did have representation in the Senate.

The moment he saw Ahsoka, Anakin felt a missing piece fall into place. Even though she hadn’t been here for the birth of the twins, at least he would be able to tell her the news and convince her to come to Coruscant. He wanted Ahsoka here--he wanted his whole family together. 

With a wide grin, Anakin spoke before Obi-Wan could. “It sure is, Snips. I’m a father!”

Ahsoka blinked, looking very confused. “What?” 

Anakin was sure his face was going to crack with how widely he was smiling. “I’m married to Padmé and she just gave birth to twins!” 

“Anakin! We don’t know what the encryption is like on this line,” Obi-Wan scolded. 

“I don’t care!” Anakin said, spreading his arms wide. 

“So it is a good time,” Ahsoka said, laughing. “And don’t worry, Obi-Wan, this line is secure.” 

Obi-Wan still looked worried, so Anakin clapped a hand on his back. “C’mon, Master. It’s Ahsoka.” 

“Congratulations, Skyguy,” Ahsoka said, smiling at him for a moment. “I wish I was there.” 

“Then hop in a ship and get here. The twins want to meet their Aunt Ahsoka,” Anakin said. 

“I wish I could,” Ahsoka said, her smile fading a little. “But--there is something I need to discuss with you. Both of you.” 

For a moment, Anakin allowed himself to feel his annoyance and disappointment. To feel frustrated Ahsoka wasn’t contacting them just to talk, to let him know she was all right. Although she hadn’t stayed in touch since she left the Jedi Order, Anakin had been able to keep tabs on her through their Force bond--as well as keeping watch on the Holonet for any news about any mysterious young Togruta females. 

But the fact that she was contacting them now meant whatever she needed to talk to them about, it was important. Very important. 

Sighing, Anakin looked at Obi-Wan. “Let’s go into Padmé’s office and use her holo.” 

With a nod, Obi-Wan followed him down the hallway. It only took Anakin a moment to transfer the call from Obi-Wan’s portable holo to Padmé’s larger unit. 

“It’s good to hear from you, Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan said with a soft smile. “What’s going on?” 

Ahsoka took a deep breath. “I’m on Kalevala. I’m involved with one of the groups fighting for control of Mandalore.” 

As soon as Ahsoka said ‘Kalevala’, Anakin could feel Obi-Wan strengthen his shields. He gave his former Master a look, silently encouraging him to not shut him out. Obi-Wan met his eyes after a moment, then lowered his shields a little. 

That action allowed him to feel the churning emotions in Obi-Wan. But when he spoke, he sounded composed. “I wouldn’t have guessed you would become involved in Mandalorian politics.” 

She gave a small shrug. “Someone needed my help and I wanted to help.” 

“Of course you did, Snips,” Anakin said. “Are you okay?”

“I am, Anakin, but . . . some information has been presented by an ally and now that it’s been verified, it needs to be shared with the Jedi and the Republic,” Ahsoka said. 

Tilting his head, Anakin stretched out. He could tell Ahsoka was hiding something from them. And he didn’t blame her for having secrets, but he wanted her to know she could tell them--she could tell  _ him _ \--anything. 

“What kind of information?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“It’s from the Kaminoans,” Ahsoka said. “Indirectly from them. They passed this info to a member of the Council of Neutral Systems, who brought it to the Mandalorian faction I’m working with.” 

The Kaminoans? The people responsible for creating the clone army? Anakin looked at Obi-Wan, who was already stroking his beard. “What did they say?” Anakin asked, looking back at Ahsoka.

The way Ahsoka straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin told Anakin he wasn’t going to like this. 

“There was a secret order given to the Kaminoans to implant an inhibitor chip in each clone,” Ahsoka said. “A chip that was designed to give the clones orders that they couldn’t override.” 

Anakin stared at Ahsoka. “What?” 

“Do you have proof from the Kaminoans?” Obi-Wan asked after a moment of silence. Anakin could sense the shock and surprise in his former Master, but also how his mind was already working, searching for signs of a trap. 

“Yes. We have medical scans showing the location of the chip in each clone--and information about how they can be removed.” 

“Who . . .” Anakin began to ask, only to answer his own question. “Someone who wanted to use the clones against the Republic.” 

Obi-Wan nodded slowly. “Someone like . . . a Sith Lord.” 

“A Sith?” Ahsoka asked, her eyes widening. “Have you found them?” 

“We have received some information that could indicate who it is,” Obi-Wan said. 

It was all Anakin could do not to blurt out an explanation to Ahsoka. To tell her about the vision he had shared with Obi-Wan, about their suspicions. If only to let him start working through his own feelings about the possibility. But Obi-Wan gave him a look and turned back to Ahsoka. 

“We need your information as soon as possible, Ahsoka. Can you and the people you’re working with get to Coruscant?” 

Ahsoka looked off to the side--to someone who was staying clear of the range of her holo projector, Anakin realized--then looked back at them and nodded. “Yes.”

“Very well--when you arrive, come to Senator Amidala’s apartment,” Obi-Wan instructed Ahsoka. 

“All right, Master,” Ahsoka said, bowing her head a little. “May the Force be with you.” 

“May it be with all of us,” Obi-Wan acknowledged. 

Before Ahsoka could end the comm, Anakin leaned in. “Be careful, Ahsoka. Remember: the twins want to meet you.” 

Her toothy grin reminded him of the Padawan he had met for the first time not so very long ago in years, but it felt much, much longer. “I will, Master. Send Padmé my best.” 

And with that, Ahsoka’s image vanished, leaving Anakin alone with Obi-Wan. 

“Do you think the Chancellor was responsible for this control chip?” Anakin asked Obi-Wan, keeping his voice low. 

“Who else would have the ability to do so?” Obi-Wan asked, his arms crossed over his chest as he stroked his beard.

Anakin ran his hands through his hair, then slumped down in one of the chairs. He felt so overwhelmed, between the birth of the twins, the strange vision of Palpatine fighting Master Yoda, and now Ahsoka’s news. He felt his emotions swinging from one extreme to another, and he just couldn’t think . . . 

A hand rested on his shoulder. “Easy there,” Obi-Wan said gently. “Breathe, Anakin.” 

“I--I can’t believe--I want the twins to be safe--and Padmé--” Anakin stuttered, his breath catching every few words. 

“I know,” Obi-Wan said. “Everything is happening so fast. But--but we must stay calm, as best as we are able, and find the truth.”

Heeding Obi-Wan’s words, Anakin closed his eyes and breathed slowly, trying to bring his heart rate down. 

“That’s it,” Obi-Wan said, a cheerful note in his voice. “Now, I am very ready to meet your children. Have you and Padmé discussed names?” 

Leaning back to look up at Obi-Wan, Anakin blinked. “What? Shouldn’t we . . . I don’t know, go talk to the Council right now or something?” 

“Without Ahsoka’s proof, we only have our vision,” Obi-Wan pointed out. “I’d rather wait until we have something more concrete . . . and . . .”

When Obi-Wan trailed off, Anakin quirked an eyebrow. “And?” 

“And I think we could both use a reminder of just what is riding on our being right,” Obi-Wan said slowly. “I have a feeling . . . that we need to take our time. To be prepared. To do what is best for the galaxy.” 

His stomach twisted with something--not fear, not worry. Something darker, more foreboding. But even though Obi-Wan’s words were serious and full of foreboding, his sense in the Force was quiet and resolved. 

And even though everything was confusing and uncertain, Anakin found that he agreed with Obi-Wan. He wanted to be prepared for whatever lay ahead. And the best way to be prepared, he thought, was to spend as much time with his children as possible. Soaking up their light, savoring every moment he could spend with them. 

Just in case. 

Doing his best to smile, Anakin rose to his feet. “Padmé and I spent all our time arguing whether we were having a boy or a girl. We didn’t spend a lot of time discussing names. And that turned into an argument, too.” 

Obi-Wan’s smile was bright and fast as lightning. “I assume ‘Obi-Wan’ wasn’t on the list. It’s a mouthful of a name for a small baby.” 

Anakin felt himself relax a little and fall into humor. “True. And also, it’d be a lot to put on a baby--living up to your example.” 

“Oh, I’m sure your child would easily surpass me,” Obi-Wan said as he headed towards the hallway. 

“Not likely,” Anakin said quietly as he followed Obi-Wan into the hall.

XXX

Padmé supposed she should be wondering what was taking Anakin so long to bring Obi-Wan in to meet the twins. But honestly, she was sure they were fine. And she liked the idea of having the twins to herself for a little bit longer. 

After Healer Gahan had helped her with the aftermath of the birth, and Sabé had cleaned her up, she had sent the healer home and told Sabé to go to bed. Because all Padmé wanted to do was lie in her bed and hold her babies. Her beautiful, smart, perfect babies. 

She couldn’t believe both she and Anakin had been right--they were having a boy  _ and  _ a girl. And she could already see signs of both of them in the twins. Their son had Anakin’s blue eyes but a smile and spirit that reminded Padmé of herself. Meanwhile, their daughter was definitely taking after her in looks, with thin wisps of dark hair clinging to her scalp. But to Padmé’s great amusement, their daughter had Anakin’s stubborn expression down pat, when she was only an hour old. 

They were just so precious. Before their arrival, the baby she was carrying seemed abstract, more of an idea than a tiny little person. But now, holding both of them in her arms, they were so real. 

And Padmé realized her priorities were changing. Right in this moment, caring for the whole galaxy, keeping it safe--the only reason to do that was to keep the twins happy and safe. 

Smiling sadly, Padmé kissed each child’s forehead. “From now on, everything I do will be for you,” she whispered. 

A part of her almost wanted to rebel. To argue that the fate of trillions of people was more important than two tiny babies. But for only the second time in her life, Padmé was going to listen to her heart instead of her head. 

The first time, she had married Anakin. And now, she would give her children the galaxy they deserved. 

A soft tap at the door made her look up as Anakin looked at her. “Angel?” 

“Come in, love,” she said, shifting a little. “What kept you--where’s Obi-Wan?”

“Right here,” said her husband’s brother-in-everything-but-name, stepping out from behind Anakin. “I’m ready to see the twins. And help you pick out names, of course.” 

Chuckling a little, Padmé gestured them both to come inside with a nod of her head. “Yes, we do need names for these darlings.” 

With his long legs, Anakin covered the gap between them and scooped up their daughter. “We talked a little about names,” he reminded her, before biting his lip. “I . . . I still really like Leia.” 

Padmé stroked their son’s head as she thought it over. She could guess how much this meant to Anakin, to have his children born free. And one of the few things about Tatooine he talked about was the legends and stories his mother had told him. And the being known as Leia--fierce, strong, loyal--had made a deep impression on Anakin. 

And now that Padmé had met her, she knew it was a name worthy of their daughter. 

“I think Leia is perfect,” Padmé told him with a soft smile. 

Anakin’s whole face lit up with his smile, and he bent down and kissed her. “Leia Skywalker,” he said as he straightened up and looked into her face. 

Their daughter--Leia--let out a bit of a grunt and Padmé laughed a little. “Leia Amidala Skywalker, please.” 

“Of course--how do you like that?” Anakin asked Leia, smiling down at her. “Leia Amidala Skywalker?” 

From the way Anakin’s face softened and he drew Leia close, Padmé could tell that their baby approved of her name. 

Turning to Obi-Wan, Padmé smiled at him. “That’s one down. But I might need your help, to convince Anakin about the name I want to use.” 

Obi-Wan smiled. “Which is?” 

“Luke,” Padmé said. 

“It’s a nice name, but . . .” Anakin said. 

“But what?” Obi-Wan asked. 

Anakin looked at Padmé for a moment, then sighed. “It just sounds . . . kinda soft.” 

Obi-Wan gestured to the boy in Padmé’s arms. “May I?” 

There weren’t many people Padmé would be willing to hand over one of her newborn children to--but Obi-Wan was definitely one of them. She carefully handed the boy over to Obi-Wan, who looked down at him. 

“Luke means ‘bright one’,” Obi-Wan said softly, gazing down at the newborn in his arms. Then he slowly lifted his head and looked at Anakin. “I can’t think of a better name for your son.” 

“That’s what it means?” Anakin asked Padmé, who nodded and smiled. 

“That’s why I liked it,” she explained. “It seemed . . . right.” 

Anakin stepped over towards Obi-Wan and looked down at their son in his former master’s arms, then smiled slowly. “You’re right. That’s his name.” 

Obi-Wan smiled. “Luke Amidala Skywalker?” 

Something didn’t feel quite right about that name. Padmé looked at Anakin and could sense what he wanted, even though she wasn’t Force-Sensitive. She gave him a small smile, and Anakin turned to Obi-Wan.

“Actually, I think it’s Luke Kenobi Skywalker.” 

In all the time she had known Obi-Wan, she had rarely seen his calm, peaceful expression crack. Even in the heat of battle, he stayed composed. Padmé could only guess what both her husband and Obi-Wan had been going through over the last several hours, about the revelations and surprises, but it still made her eyes widen at how Obi-Wan reacted to Anakin’s words. 

He blinked, his mouth opening for a moment, before he swallowed. “But--but Leia--I thought you were going to use both of your last names--” 

Anakin smiled. “Luke likes his name, though.” 

“And Amidala-Skywalker is a mouthful,” Padmé pointed out. “Amidala can be Leia’s middle name. Just like Kenobi will be Luke’s.” 

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, looking down at Luke. “Oh.” 

“Much better than calling him Obi-Wan, right?” Anakin said, gently nudging him. “Here, let’s switch. Meet Leia.” 

It was all Padmé could do not to laugh at how her husband was handling Obi-Wan. He was probably enjoying this even more than she was. Within a moment, Anakin had swapped Leia for Luke, and come to sit down beside her on the bed. 

“Thank you, love,” she said, kissing Anakin’s cheek before smiling down at Luke. “Hello, darling.” 

“You coulda told me what Luke meant,” Anakin said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. 

“I’m sure I did,” Padmé told him with an arched eyebrow. “Perhaps you weren’t listening.” 

She knew he was about to protest that he always listened to her, when Obi-Wan said, “Oh, no.” 

Looking up, Padmé tilted her head. “Is Leia all right?” 

Because Obi-Wan was staring down at her with a surprised, shocked, yet resigned expression on his face. 

Anakin looked back and forth between Leia and Obi-Wan, and then he started to laugh. 

“What is it?” Padmé asked, frowning. 

“I’m going to be training another Skywalker,” Obi-Wan said before looking at Anakin. “This is all your fault.” 

Anakin was too busy laughing to reply, but Padmé felt her arms tightening around Luke. “She’s Force-Sensitive?” 

“Do stop that, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, before stepping closer to Padmé and easing Leia into her arms. “Both Luke and Leia are very strong with the Force, Padmé.” 

“Oh,” Padmé said, looking down at her tiny babies. Of course, she knew this was a possibility--almost a probability, given Anakin’s abilities. And Anakin himself had said the baby was unbelievably strong during her pregnancy. But now that her children were here, the idea of them being taken away . . . living at the Jedi Temple . . . barely knowing her . . . 

Thankfully, Anakin’s laughter abruptly ceased and his arms wrapped around her. “Angel--don’t worry--”

“I can’t help it,” she said, looking at Anakin and biting her lower lip. “Ani--we’re going to lose them--” 

“No, we won’t,” Anakin said, brimming with the same stubborn determination and fire that made her fall in love with him. 

But his determination wasn’t enough, she knew. Not in this--not when the truth of their marriage became known to the Order. What better way to punish Anakin--to punish her--than to take their children away? 

Swallowing, Padmé tried to hold herself together, even as she pulled the twins closer to her. “You can’t promise that, Anakin. They’re so strong--they will have to be trained--even if I don’t want it--” 

“You don’t?” Anakin asked, sounding shocked. 

“I don’t know!” she said, feeling tears slip from her eyes. “But if they’re not trained, it will be dangerous--and what if they resent us for not training them, for denying them the chance to be Jedi?” 

“Padmé,” Anakin breathed out, pulling her against him. “It’s okay.” 

Burying her face against his neck, Padmé breathed in and out. Luke and Leia squirmed a little against her, but stayed quiet. Anakin rubbed his hands over her and pressed a kiss to her temple. 

“They’re only an hour old, angel,” he told her. “We have time. And no matter what happens, Luke and Leia love you. I can tell, Padmé.” 

“They do, Padmé,” Obi-Wan said, reminding her of how she had just fallen apart in front of him. Pulling back from Anakin, Padmé hoped her face wasn’t too flushed from her tears. 

“You’re right, I know,” she said, feeling her voice tremble a little. Anakin stroked her hair, giving her that special smile that was hers and hers alone. 

She took another few breaths and loosened her hold on the twins a little. “I’m sorry.” 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Obi-Wan said, his voice soft and gentle. “There is so much happening, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed.”

Something in his voice made her wonder what was going on beyond this room. She looked at Anakin, whose jaw grew tight. 

“What is it?” she asked, looking back and forth between the two of them. “What’s happened?” 

“Nothing you need to worry about--you need to rest,” Anakin said, but Obi-Wan talked over him. 

“There is something, but it can wait, Senator.” 

As much as she hated being told to wait, Padmé couldn’t deny that she was exhausted. And so were Anakin and Obi-Wan, she could tell. So perhaps some rest would be the best course of action. Especially with two newborns depending on her. 

“All right,” Padmé said reluctantly.

“We’re waiting for some intel,” Anakin said, still stroking her hair. “Once we’ve got it, I’ll talk to you. But the good news is, Ahsoka is the one bringing the information.”

That was good news. Having Ahsoka here would definitely make Anakin happy. And . . . and maybe there would be time for Ahsoka to help her with her mixed feelings about her babies being Force-sensitive.

“In fact, it might be wise for us to include a few other Senators in our discussion,” Obi-Wan said. “Along with Masters Yoda and Windu.” 

At the mention of the two leading Jedi of the Republic, Padmé felt her heart flutter with nerves. Whatever this matter was, it had to be of critical importance to involve both the Senate and the Jedi Order. But Padmé only nodded and said, “I can alert a few Senators in the morning--colleagues who could pay me a visit without much notice being taken.” 

Obi-Wan nodded, then looked at Anakin. A silent conversation was held between them, then Anakin looked back to Padmé. “I’m going to help Obi-Wan get settled in a guest room, and then I’ll be back to help with the twins, all right?” 

“All right,” Padmé agreed. She gave Obi-Wan a smile. “Good night.” 

He gave her a small bow. “Good night.” His face softened a little and she guessed he was saying a silent good night to each of the twins, which made her smile more. 

And then it was her and her babies again. For as long as Padmé could make that last.

XXX

Usually, Darth Sidious simply eliminated any opposition to his work and his actions. He was not quite ready to lose the Kaminoans, though. That meant they received mercy. 

Gagging, the Kaminoan representative kneeled, their hands fluttering along the column of their throat. It was an interesting challenge, using the Force to choke a Kaminoan. But all too soon, he mastered the challenge and savored the sound of the Kaminoan’s gasps for breath. 

“Do you see now how unwise your actions are, Senator?” Sidious asked, relishing the fear drowning the pale creature at his feet. 

“Y-yes--yes!” the Senator said as Sidious lightened his grip for a moment. 

“Good,” he said, giving one final squeeze before releasing the mewling creature. “Now, let us discuss the tales you have been telling. How you have been agitating for clone rights.” 

The Senator from Kamino wheezed before pushing themselves upright. “If clones had rights, the Senate would approve an expansion of the Grand Army of the Republic.”

“Meanwhile, your people could sell even more systems on clone armies,” Sidious hissed. “There will be no armies in this Republic but the one under my control. Remember that, Senator.” 

Their Force sense was as calm as a pond as they nodded their head. Their mouth narrowed in a silent wince of pain at the movement of their neck. But when they spoke, their voice was even. “Yes, my lord.” 

End, Chapter 7


	8. Chapter 8

When he awoke, he felt odd. It took a few moments for Obi-Wan to realize why. 

It wasn’t because he was in a strange room--the guest room in Padmé’s apartment, he remembered--or due to the swell of happiness he felt from Anakin.

He felt odd because he hadn’t meditated before he fell asleep. And there had been a dream. Satine had been there, but--but he couldn’t remember now what happened. He closed his eyes and tried to strengthen his memory, but the dream slipped away, like sand sliding between his fingers. 

What was the Force trying to tell him with these visions of Satine? He opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling, searching for an answer. He was no stranger to seeing Satine in his dreams, even before they had met again, since they had revealed the truth of their feelings for each other. 

Satine loved him. And he would have left the Jedi Order for her.

Her words had haunted his dreams and only meditation before bed helped keep the dreams somewhat at bay. But after her death at the hands of Maul . . . the dreams had come more frequently. Filled with the possibilities of what might have been if he had left the Order. If he had been faster, stronger, better.

Breathing out slowly, Obi-Wan rose from his bed and sat cross-legged on the floor. With slow, even breaths, he sank into a meditative state, seeking calm and peace after a tumultuous night. 

For the first few minutes, he simply existed, letting the flow of the Force wrap around him. And then, he allowed himself to touch on his feelings for Satine: on the regret, the heartbreak, the loneliness. 

Obi-Wan didn’t know how often he had tried to release these feelings into the Force. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to fully rid himself of the emotions Satine stirred in him. But he kept trying, because he knew Satine would not want him to feel this way. To feel guilty about what he hadn’t been able to do, to regret ever knowing her. 

Thank the Force he at least had an option for healing himself. 

A small smile touched his lips. During their year on the run, Satine had often asked him questions about the Force, trying to understand it. She had been especially curious about the practice of releasing emotions into the Force. Her interest was sincere, but Obi-Wan knew Satine thought the idea of letting go of feelings to be unnatural. She was a pacifist and an idealist, but she was still a Mandalorian. Satine was too passionate to discard her emotions, even if her duty kept her from always showing those emotions. 

Slowly, he felt his guilt and sadness begin to recede and ease. His mind felt clearer, the galaxy opening up before him. Obi-Wan felt his shoulders relax as he kept meditating, finding the clearness he sought. 

When he opened his eyes, he felt ready for the rest of the day. Rising to his feet, Obi-Wan went to the small guest refresher and cleaned up before pulling on his tunic and trousers. Then he went to the kitchen in search of some tea. 

The moment he stepped into the kitchen, he had to hold back a laugh at the sight of Anakin. His hair was utterly disheveled, his tunic was rumpled and covered in blobs of milky-colored, half-dried liquid, and he was staring at the caffmaker as if it held the answers to all the questions in the galaxy. 

Clearing his throat to push down his amusement, Obi-Wan said, “Long night?” 

Anakin nodded then straightened up to look at him. A small smile flitted across his face, at odds with the bags under his eyes. “Yeah. But it was great.”

“Being woken up several times?” Obi-Wan asked as he put the kettle on for his tea. 

“Because I got to spend time with the twins! And with Padmé. She’s so amazing. Nothing flusters her. Even when she’s feeding both of the babies. At the same time, Obi-Wan!” 

It had been a long time since Obi-Wan had heard such enthusiasm in Anakin’s voice. It reminded him of the boy Anakin used to be, chattering on about droids or lightsaber forms. Obi-Wan smiled slowly at his former Padawan. 

“How are the babies?” he asked, letting his pride and happiness shade his Force presence. 

Anakin smiled widely. “The twins are just--they’re amazing. Luke has the sweetest smile, and Leia is so stubborn, but she already loves Luke and will do what he says. He’s going to be the one to keep her calm, I can tell.”

Obi-Wan smiled. “I hope I can spend a bit more time with them this morning before Ahsoka arrives.” 

Nodding, Anakin poured himself some caff. “Me, too. I’m hoping to keep the twins occupied until Padmé is ready to wake up. She’s got it harder than me, since she has to feed the twins every time they’re hungry, and she can’t have caff.” 

“Can’t have caff? Why--oh,” Obi-Wan said, as the reason became clear to him. It couldn’t be healthy for two newborns to ingest caffeine, and since their source of food was Padmé . . . 

With a lopsided grin, Anakin nodded and sipped his caff. “The lack of caff is the reason why Padmé is still sleeping.”

The kettle whistled and Obi-Wan poured the hot water over the tea leaves. Although not his usual spicy blend, it was soothing and pleasant, and Obi-Wan enjoyed his sips. Feeling strengthened, he looked at Anakin.

“I suppose you haven’t had much time to think about the news Ahsoka is bringing us.” 

“More than you might think,” Anakin said, leaning against the table. “It’s weird, isn’t it, that Mandalore is coming to the Jedi, to the Republic--right?”

“It is, although as Ahsoka said, she’s affiliated with one of the factions battling for control,” Obi-Wan said. “Perhaps this faction is willing to assist the Republic when it suits their interests.” 

Anakin grunted. “That’s not exactly reassuring.” 

“No,” Obi-Wan agreed. “There’s so little information coming out of Mandalore about what’s happening there . . .”

“Don’t get me wrong, I trust Ahoska,” Anakin said. “And she’s not easily taken in. I’m just wondering what it all means.” 

“I know,” Obi-Wan said, stroking his beard. “Especially the idea that the Kaminoans are telling tales about the clones they’ve created.” 

His former Padawan frowned. “That’s even weirder.” 

Obi-Wan nodded as he sipped his tea. That was the strange thing about all of this: the Kaminoans were so reclusive, so xenophobic, they had arranged for their planet to be removed from the Jedi archives. Yet here they were, passing along information about the Grand Army of the Republic to the leading neutral planet in the galaxy. And for any Mandalorian citizens willing to share this information with the Jedi?

It was all so very strange. 

“I suppose we must simply wait for Ahsoka’s arrival to find out more,” Obi-Wan said. 

“And in the meanwhile . . . you need more time with the twins,” Anakin said, smiling a little. 

Chuckling softly, Obi-Wan placed his cup on the counter. “I think that’s a lovely idea.” 

Anakin drank down the rest of his caff and put his mug next to Obi-Wan’s. “Then let’s go!” 

He hadn’t realized how much having children--and being open about his relationship with Padmé--would change Anakin. How it would lighten the load he had been carrying on his shoulders. A load Obi-Wan had thought was the war. 

Perhaps having his family safe, being honest about who mattered to him, was what Anakin needed to face the challenges and struggles of war. 

To face all that lay ahead of them. 

Watching Anakin’s face, how animated and bright it was as he talked about the babies, just as bright as his Force presence . . . Obi-Wan was truly happy for him. A happiness that wasn’t born out of envy or vicarious living. No, it was a simple, pure happiness. 

As simple and pure as the two children waiting in the nursery to see them.

XXX

The closer their ship got to Coruscant, the more Satine had to tell herself not to be nervous. As if by telling herself not to be nervous, she wouldn’t feel that way. Which was ridiculous, of course. 

There was nothing she could do to keep herself from feeling nervous. 

Once they landed, they would go to Padmé’s apartment. Satine would keep herself cloaked while Ahsoka and Bo presented the information about the clone army. And . . . and she would reveal the truth about her survival. In front of Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

And there was the nerves. 

Taking a few deep breaths, Satine leaned back in her chair in the small passenger cabin. Her stomach muscles throbbed and a stabbing pain lanced through her midsection. Even though she was alone, Satine pressed her hand against her side and tried to hold back a gasp. 

She hadn’t thought traveling to Coruscant would affect her so much, on a physical level. It was just sitting on a ship for several hours, but it seemed it was different from sitting in that small cabin on Kalevala. 

But Satine kept breathing through the pain and eventually, it faded. Now she just felt exhausted. But at least she wasn’t so nervous.

It was ironic, really. Now she had a better understanding of how Obi-Wan had felt, during that whole Rako Hardeen mess. At the time, she couldn’t fathom why he wouldn’t tell her the truth. How he could think she wouldn’t have kept the secret of his undercover mission. 

But now . . . she could see the situation from his point of view more clearly. Truly, it had all come down to Obi-Wan doing his duty. To achieve his mission without jeopardizing it. Just like she had stayed withdrawn while she healed, so she could then take her place as the Duchess of Mandalore without any major restrictions. 

Simply recovering from her injuries was a major accomplishment. The doctors who had attended her had doubted whether she would be able to walk or eat, let alone live a full life. Satine was incredibly grateful for the care she had received, for the time taken to help her. And she knew she wanted to repay all that effort. 

That was why she was on this ship in the first place. Why she was willing to step out of hiding and take her place as the leader of Mandalore, if only long enough to lay the ground for her successor. Since she was lucky enough to be alive, she would do her duty. 

Until she could hand Mandalore over to someone who could succeed where she had failed. 

Sighing softly, Satine watched the swirl of hyperspace through the viewscreen. All these questions and thoughts about Mandalore, her duty, the future--they were something to keep her from dwelling on the most uncomfortable, uncertain one of all. 

How would Obi-Wan react to discovering she was alive? Not with anger, like she had when their positions were reversed. But with the confession she had made, with what she thought was her dying breath . . . how would Obi-Wan respond to her now? 

Would he say he loved her in return? 

Satine huffed and rose to her feet. If she was going to focus on questions she would never receive answers to, she might as well do that in the cockpit. Perhaps Ahsoka had finished her meditation and would help distract her from her thoughts. Or Bo would be available to discuss the political ramifications of Mandalore’s true leader infringing their neutrality by helping the Republic. 

Walking pulled on her stomach muscles, so she walked slowly through the corridors of the freighter Bo had arranged for the trip to Coruscant. When she arrived in the cockpit, Ahsoka was sitting at the controls, looking out at hyperspace, while Bo was in the co-pilot’s seat.

“How much longer until we arrive?” Satine asked, standing behind them and resting her hand lightly on the back of Ahsoka’s seat. 

“We’ll be reverting to realspace in just a few moments,” Ahsoka said. 

“And then it will be a matter of getting permission to land,” Bo added tartly. 

Ahsoka glanced at Bo. “That won’t be a problem. Padmé has arranged landing permission for us.” 

Bo hummed. “Must be nice to have friends in high places. If they are friends.”

“They are,” Satine said quietly. 

Both of them turned to look at her, and Satine smiled, meeting Bo’s eyes. “True friends are better than enemies of your enemy, sister. And as long as there are people within the Republic devoted to its ideals, we have true friends--even if we disagree on some of those ideals.” 

Her sister’s lips twisted, but she nodded. “Let us hope the news we bring will be enough to keep those disagreements in the background, considering what is to come.” 

Satine nodded as she looked out the viewscreen. At a soft chime, Ahsoka leaned forward, pulling back on the levers and dropping them out of hyperspace. Now instead of the blue swirl, the bustling surface of Coruscant filled the viewscreen, covered in twinkling lights even from this distance. 

And one of those lights were her friends, Satine knew. Padmé and Anakin, celebrating the birth of their children, yet still ready to defend the Republic. And Obi-Wan, who had given up so much for the Jedi and for the Republic. 

She did not support the Republic as they did. But Satine couldn’t see how the failure of the Republic was anything less than a disaster for the galaxy. All she wanted was peace. 

Peace that could only be achieved by people working together, healing from the war, preventing any more destruction from the actions of one evil man. 

This was her truest duty. She had been willing to die for it before, and she was still willing to die to achieve it. 

Her only hope was that she might be able to have a moment with Obi-Wan before her second death. A moment with more resolution than her first one.

XXX

As the three of them approached Padmé’s apartment, Ahsoka could feel the emotions gripping Satine. She could understand her upheaval--it had to be difficult for the Duchess, stepping back into her position, being in charge of so many lives, and forced to break Mandalore’s long-standing practice of neutrality. 

But she didn’t think Satine was worried about those things. 

Giving her head a shake, Ahsoka reminded herself that it wasn’t any of her business what the Duchess was worrying about, even if it was likely about Obi-Wan. She didn’t have any doubts that Satine would do the right thing. 

Ahoska took the lead as they walked up to the door of Padmé’s apartment, with Satine and Bo-Katan behind her, Satine wearing a robe with a hood to hide herself. She was lifting her hand to ring the doorbell when the door slid open, revealing her former master. 

“Ahsoka!” Anakin said, a wide smile on his face. 

The happiness rolling off Anakin almost knocked her off her feet. Ahsoka didn’t think she had ever felt him so happy--so free. His Force presence was as bright as a supernova. 

“Anakin--” she started to say, before he wrapped her in a tight hug. 

“It’s so good to see you,” he whispered against her montral.

She had to close her eyes to hold back her own emotions. To handle the overwhelming rush of happiness and hope and love from Anakin. 

“It’s good to see you, too,” she said, slowly pulling back. “I wish it was under better circumstances . . .”

“Any circumstances that bring you here are good ones,” Anakin said, resting a hand on her shoulder. He looked up and nodded to Bo-Katan and Satine. “Hello. Please come in.” 

Ahsoka followed them into the apartment, sensing Obi-Wan and Padmé already inside--and two tiny bright lights that must be the babies. 

Padmé, casually dressed in a flowing robe and contrasting with Ahsoka’s normal image of her, rose to her feet as they all came into the room. “Welcome,” she said softly, giving Ahsoka an extra-warm smile. 

From an adjoining couch, Obi-Wan stood as well, his hands clasped behind his back, his presence warm in the Force. Anakin fell into place beside Padmé, resting his hand on her back. 

For a moment, Ahsoka took in the picture presented to her, smiling at them all. Then she turned to the two Mandalorians, noticing how the Duchess hung back. She saw Obi-Wan’s eyes flick to the hooded figure, frowning slightly, his emotions turbulent enough to be sensed through his shields. 

“Senator Padmé Amidala, Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, may I present Bo-Katan Kryze of House Kryze,” Ahsoka said. “I believe Master Kenobi and Bo-Katan are already acquainted.” 

A spark of surprise from both Anakin and Obi-Wan echoed through the Force, with an added touch of concern and discomfort from Obi-Wan. “I’m surprised to see you again, Bo-Katan,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. 

One of her red eyebrows arched. “And why is that, Master Jedi?” 

“Because the last time I saw you, you were a member of Death Watch,” Obi-Wan said without hesitation. 

“I was,” Bo-Katan said simply. “I am no longer a member of that faction.” 

Ahsoka thought she sensed a flicker of anger in Obi-Wan. “Is that so?” 

“My actions led to the death of my sister,” Bo-Katan said, her eyes focused on Obi-Wan. “It made me reassess.”

At the mention of the Duchess, the anger roared to life in Obi-Wan, only to be quenched after a moment. Ahsoka blinked and looked at Anakin, silently asking if he had felt it, too. Anakin gave her a small nod and moved to stand beside Obi-Wan, while Padmé stepped forward. 

“We appreciate your arrival, Lady Kryze. I understand you have some information to share with the Jedi?” 

“Indeed,” Bo-Katan said coolly. She paused and Ahsoka wondered what was making her wait. Bo-Katan glanced back at the Duchess, who took a few steps closer to everyone else. 

“What’s going on?” Anakin asked, his frown matching Obi-Wan’s. 

There was a flash of something in Obi-Wan’s presence, too quick for Ahsoka to grasp, just before the Duchess reached up and pushed her hood back, revealing her thin face and shorn hair. She lifted her chin, her whole stance regal and proud, but Ahsoka saw how her eyes were locked on Obi-Wan. 

His lips parted, his eyes widening. Anakin openly gaped at the Duchess, while Padmé lifted a hand to her mouth in surprise. 

“The information we have on the clone army is more important than my return, although less surprising,” Satine said quietly. 

Obi-Wan stared at her, like he hadn’t heard what she said. “S-Satine?” he asked, his voice soft.

From her position, Ahsoka could only see the side of Satine’s face. So she could see the hesitant smile that flickered on her face. “Hello, Obi-Wan,” the Duchess said softly. 

“What--how--” Obi-Wan stuttered. 

Satine swallowed. “It’s . . . a long story.” 

“A long story?” Obi-Wan asked, stepping closer to her. “Satine--you were  _ dead _ .” 

There was such agony in his voice, in his whole sense in the Force, that Ahsoka took a step back. The tension in the room was almost tangible, making everyone but Obi-Wan and Satine look around or shift their feet. 

Ahsoka had heard Anakin’s stories about Obi-Wan and the Mandalorian Duchess. How much they argued, how Obi-Wan claimed any romantic feelings he had for her were in the past. Anakin hadn’t believed Obi-Wan’s claims, but Ahsoka . . . well, she didn’t doubt her master, but Anakin could exaggerate. And he did like to tease Obi-Wan, especially when Obi-Wan acted more emotional, less measured--more like Anakin. 

But seeing Obi-Wan now, she could tell Anakin hadn’t exaggerated. If anything--he had no idea just how deeply Obi-Wan cared for Satine. And the depth of his feelings was matched by hers. 

“Anakin, why don’t you take Ahsoka to meet the twins? Lady Kryze, may I offer you something to drink in the kitchen?” Padmé asked, gently pushing Anakin towards Ahsoka as she lightly grasped Bo-Katan’s elbow. “Lady Kryze, just this way. You’ve had a long journey and once our other guests arrive, there will be much to discuss.” 

The tension deflated but didn’t fully vanish. Because Obi-Wan and Satine were still staring at each other--but at least they could be alone and talk in private, before everyone got down to business. 

“Right! Yeah,” Anakin said, throwing a worried look in Obi-Wan’s direction before turning to Ahsoka. “This way, Snips.” 

Nodding, Ahsoka didn’t hesitate to follow him out of the room. She looked up at Anakin, whose eyebrows were drawn together, as he led her down a hallway. 

“So . . . I guess you were right about Obi-Wan and the Duchess,” Ahsoka said, keeping her voice low. 

“Yeah--I mean, stuff happened yesterday--was it yesterday?” Anakin asked, rubbing his hand against his forehead. “It’s been crazy. But yes--I knew Obi-Wan was still dealing with Satine’s death. I . . . I don’t know what this will do to him.” 

“Isn’t this a good thing?” Ahsoka asked.

Anakin paused at a closed door, leaning against the wall. “I think it is. But I don’t know if Obi-Wan would agree. You know how he is.” 

She thought that over for a moment, thinking about Obi-Wan, who had been like a second master to her, and Satine, who had shown such kindness and strength during her recovery.

“I think Obi-Wan might surprise you,” Ahsoka said. 

“Lately, he has been,” Anakin said with a grin. “Although not as much as I’ve surprised him.” 

Ahsoka couldn’t help smiling at that. “I bet, Skyguy. I can’t believe you’re a dad!” 

“I know!” Anakin said, that sunshine-bright smile lighting up his face. “So c’mon, you need to meet the most amazing babies in the galaxy.” 

With a smile, Ahsoka nodded and watched as Anakin opened the door and looked into the room. He held a finger to his lips and then stepped inside, gesturing for her to follow him. 

She didn’t need to be asked twice--because she was very excited to meet Anakin and Padmé’s children.

End, Chapter 8

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's only two more chapters to go after this one! I'm really excited about sharing the conclusion to this fic, and I really appreciate everyone who have let me know they're enjoying the story. 
> 
> Also, I love how I explained Satine's survival after Maul stabbed her with the Darksaber, so even though I'm sure it makes no sense--after all, it's Star Wars. Nothing makes sense. :-)

As he gently rocked Luke in his arms, watching Ahsoka make faces and smile at Leia, Anakin Skywalker felt at peace for perhaps the first time in his life. 

Before this moment, the closest he had come to this feeling was in his earliest days. When he was with his mother, wrapped in her love and care. But growing up on Tatooine as a slave, bothered by strange impulses and advanced reflexes, his fear and worry had worked against his mother’s calm, centering presence. 

Then came the years of training, butting heads with Obi-Wan while seeking his approval, the whirlwind of his romance with Padmé, the start of the war, the secrets and hiding . . . there had been no peace. 

Not until now, when he had broken the Jedi Code beyond redemption and the Chancellor, the man he considered a mentor, might be the true source of all the galaxy’s problems . . . now, he felt the serenity he had always been searching for. 

And then Leia opened her mouth and yowled, followed by Luke a moment later. 

“What did I do?!?” Ahsoka yelped, holding Leia away from her body. Leia’s face was red and her fists were balled up as she cried. 

Chuckling softly, Anakin rocked Luke as he lifted Leia up and held her close to him, so she could cuddle up against both him and Luke. Within a moment, Leia settled down and her brother did the same. “Nothing, Snips. She’s a baby, sometimes she’s just gonna cry.” 

“Now I wish I had spent more time in the crèche,” Ahsoka said with a sheepish smile. She tilted her head to look at him. “I know you spent even less time there than I did--how are you so good at this?” 

Anakin shrugged a little. “Don’t know. It just . . . I feel like I know what to do.” 

“You always had good instincts with kids,” Ahsoka said. 

“Thanks,” Anakin said. “If it wasn’t for the Force, I’m sure I’d be useless.” 

“I doubt that, Skyguy,” Ahsoka said softly. 

That made him look at Ahsoka, really taking her in. She had gotten taller, and her montrals were longer, with more defined patterns there and on her face. But the physical was only part of how she had changed. She seemed . . . more guarded. Less open. She held herself differently and didn’t react like Anakin expected. 

It made him want to go straight to the Jedi Council and ask them if they realized what they had done, how they had discarded Ahsoka like a broken blaster instead of treating her like a person, a member of the Order . . . 

But--but that wouldn’t change the past. Even if it would make Anakin feel better. 

He drew in a deep breath. Ahsoka had left the Order because she hadn’t felt like she belonged. Perhaps that might change in the future. He hoped it would. Even if he was expelled from the Order, he hoped Ahsoka would find her way back to being a Jedi one day. 

And even if she never did, he knew Ahsoka would always do what was right. She would always help people. 

“Ahsoka, I hope you know that--no matter what, I care about you,” he said, stumbling a little over his words. “You--you’re like what I imagine having a sister is like, and--just because you’re not part of the Order--I mean . . . even if you don’t ever come back, my feelings won’t ever change.” 

A warm smile lit up Ahsoka’s face. Something more mature than her old cheeky grin, but no less joyful. “Thank you, Anakin.”

“I mean it,” he said, rocking the twins a little. “You’re part of my family. Just like Obi-Wan is, which is the only way I was able to get him to be here when the twins were born.” 

“I know you mean it,” Ahsoka said, looking up at him--but not as much as she used to. “I can feel it. And I meant it when I said thank you. It . . . it makes a difference, knowing that . . . that I’m not alone in the galaxy.” 

“Not as long as I’m around,” Anakin promised. “And I bet the kids will feel the same way about you. You’ll be the cool aunt who tells them all the cool things she does.” 

Ahsoka let out a soft laugh. “And Obi-Wan will be the cool uncle?” 

“I don’t know about that . . .” Anakin said with a grin. “Although he does have a bunch of stories about me being an idiot, so I suppose that could hold a bit of appeal for the twins someday.” 

That made Ahsoka laugh harder, only to bite it off when Luke made a little snuffling noise. “Oh, sorry!” Ahsoka whispered.

“It’s okay, Snips. Here, hold Luke--he likes everyone, it seems,” he said, handing Luke over to her. 

She looked down at Luke, rubbing his back a little. “His eyes look just like yours, Anakin.” 

“Yeah, Padmé and I were talking about how much each of them look like us. Leia’s gonna be just as pretty as her mother, aren’t you, my little love?” he cooed to Leia. She blinked her brown eyes at him, then patted her little hand against his chest. 

“That’s right,” he said, smiling at his daughter. “Pretty like Padmé and stubborn like me. It’s a good thing Uncle Obi-Wan has so much experience with stubborn Skywalkers, since he’s gonna train you someday, isn’t that so?” 

“Oh, Force.” 

Anakin blinked and looked at Ahsoka, who was staring at Luke. “Ahsoka?” Anakin asked. “What is it?” 

“I . . . I think Luke has connected to me?” she said, sounding confused. “It--it feels a bit like my bond with you.” 

Stretching out, Anakin used his feelings to explore his son’s. His discovery made him beam. “Uh-oh. Looks like Luke knows who he wants to train him.” 

Ahsoka stared at him. “Anakin!” 

“Hey, it doesn’t mean it’s going to happen,” Anakin said, trying to reassure her. “Look at your bond with Master Plo.” 

“That felt different from this,” Ahsoka said, looking back down at Luke, her face softening--probably without her realizing it, Anakin thought. 

“There’s also a lot of time before either Luke or Leia are ready to be Padawans,” Anakin reminded her. “Especially with everything that’s going on--” 

Leia tugged at his tunic, interrupting him. When he looked at her, there was something about her face that made him think of Padmé. He rubbed her back and looked at Ahsoka. “And . . . and they might not be trained as Jedi anyway.” 

His former Padawan’s eyes went wide. “What? With how Force sensitive they are?” 

Anakin breathed out slowly. “Padmé had a really strong reaction to the twins being so strong in the Force. It was right after she gave birth, so her emotions were all over the place, but--but I think she feels conflicted over the idea of giving the twins to the Temple.” 

“Oh,” Ahsoka said, her natural empathy showing in her voice. “That must be very difficult to think about. Especially when you’re holding your newborns and you think you have to give them up.” 

“Yeah,” Anakin said. “And . . . well, I’m done hiding things from the Council. But if I get expelled, I wouldn’t even be there to keep an eye on them. Not that I don’t trust you or Obi-Wan or the other Jedi, but . . .” 

“It’s not the same,” Ahsoka said, nodding her head. “But, Master--I don’t think you’ll be expelled.” 

There was such certainty in her voice, Anakin had to look at her. She gave him a small smile.

“Last night, before I contacted Obi-Wan, I felt something in the Force. A shift that seemed to mean there was something good coming. I think it might have been the birth of the twins. So I don’t see how something the Force sees as a positive would lead to your expulsion.” 

Could it be? Could his children be so important? He hadn’t felt such stirrings, but then, he had been a little distracted, what with Padmé giving birth. Perhaps Obi-Wan had noticed something--he would have to talk to him later. Once their meeting was over, once they knew exactly what was happening with the clones. 

Once Obi-Wan finished reuniting with his lost love. 

Anakin looked at Ahsoka. “What do you think is happening out there? With Obi-Wan and the Duchess?” 

“I’ve been trying to give them privacy, even with how emotional they both feel,” Ahsoka said, which Anakin acknowledged with a nod. “But . . . but I think it’s going to turn out okay.” 

“I sure hope so,” Anakin said, gently rocking Leia and moving her towards the crib. “I think we’re going to need both Obi-Wan and Satine for what’s to come. Although if anyone deserves a break from putting the galaxy first, it’s those two.” 

“Now that I’ve seen them together, I agree,” Ahsoka said. “I wonder what they’re doing.” 

XXX

Never before had a silence held so much. 

Obi-Wan couldn’t stop staring at Satine as Padmé ushered everyone else out of the room. In the back corner of his mind, he wondered if he should feel grateful to the Senator for allowing him these moments with Satine. 

And that realization left him standing as silent and still as a nerf surrounded by banthas. 

Like so many times in their past, it was Satine who took the first step. “Obi-Wan--” 

Her voice made him squeeze his eyes shut. She was thin and pale, clearly still recovering from her injury and the toil of her recovery. Her beautiful blonde hair was cut close to her scalp, and her eyes were shadowed with pain and worry. 

But her voice was the same. Strong and sure, steady and unyielding. 

And there was no trace of anger or judgment in her voice. No unspoken accusation about him leaving her for dead. 

He supposed he felt enough of that for both of them. 

How--how could he have not realized Satine was still alive? He had held her close, extending his emotions for any flicker of her presence, searching for a heartbeat, but there had been nothing. 

“I don’t understand,” he said softly, opening his eyes to look at her. “I . . . I was sure that you were dead.” 

“So was I,” Satine said, her eyes warmer and softer than he had ever seen them. “I would not have told you how I felt about you unless I thought I was dying.” 

His heart clenched in his chest and Obi-Wan opened his mouth, ready to--he wasn’t sure what he was ready to do, and he didn’t get a chance to find out, because Satine took two steps towards him and covered his mouth with her hand. 

Her skin was warm and smooth against his lips, and he could catch the faintest hint of lilies--the perfume she had always worn, even during their year on the run when it could have been used to identify her. The scent that had once wrapped around the both of them, when they had--

“No, Obi,” Satine whispered, jerking him out of his lustful thoughts. “You don’t have an obligation to say anything. I only told you because--because I wanted you to know. So you knew there was someone who . . .” 

She let her voice trail off, then swallowed and dropped her hand from his face. 

“The first Mandalorian Jedi created the Darksaber. You know that, of course,” Satine said, not waiting for any acknowledgement from him before continuing. “What the Jedi didn’t know is the Darksaber has a will of its own. Something special about the crystal that powers it, so the legends say.” 

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, trying to rise above his emotions. “Kyber crystals pick their Jedi. So it’s not outside the realm of possibility that the Darksaber has similar characteristics.” 

“Yes,” Satine said, clasping her hands together. “So when Maul used the Darksaber on me . . . it did not wish for me to die.” 

“But--but you were stabbed,” Obi-Wan said, knowing he sounded like a fool for stating the obvious. “Straight through your chest.” 

Satine gave a gentle shrug of her shoulders. “I’m as confused as you are. As disbelieving. Yet here I stand. As best as my doctors can determine, the Darksaber shifted itself as it entered my body, reforming the blade to allow my vital organs to be dealt only glancing blows. My muscles were shredded and I needed a new set of lungs, but . . . but I survived.” 

It was so extraordinary, so seemingly impossible. Yet . . . he was a Jedi. He had seen so many remarkable events in his life, witnessing what most would call miracles. 

Too often, he had faced heartbreak and tragedy--random, chaotic, meaningless. And he had consoled himself by remembering it was all the will of the Force. Could it be, for once in his life, the will of the Force brought happiness and renewal? 

Such thoughts weren’t very Jedi-like of him. All things came from the Force, and its will moved in mysterious ways that couldn’t be fully understood. But right now, Obi-Wan didn’t want to act like a Jedi.

He wanted to act like a man. A man reunited with the woman who meant everything to him. 

“Satine,” he said softly, moving towards her. He reached out and gently wrapped his hands around her clasped ones, savoring the warmth of her skin. 

She never hesitated to look in his eyes. To meet his gaze and listen to what he had to say, even if it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. And this time was no different. So he could see the hope in her eyes. 

“When we first met, no one had ever looked at me and just knew me so quickly, so thoroughly,” Obi-Wan said, gazing at her. “And even though we both grew and changed, you still know me.”

“I do,” Satine said softly, turning her hands in his grasp in order to lace her fingers through his. “Just like you know me.” 

Nodding, Obi-Wan smiled at her, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers. This close to her, he could see the fine lines on her face, the way her lips oh-so-slightly trembled, the glimmer of tears in her eyes. 

And even though he had always thought confessing his feelings to Satine would be the most difficult thing he would ever do, it wasn’t. 

“I loved you always . . . and I always will, Satine,” he told her, purposefully repeating the words of her own confession. “I do not say this out of obligation--but because it’s what I feel, and to hide that is wrong--” 

“Oh, shut up,” Satine said, going up on her toes and kissing him softly. 

It was like the whole galaxy burst into song. Not simply because they were kissing, but because . . . they were in love. 

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and kissed her back slowly, taking his time, feeling every precious emotion Satine created within him, drawing her close and into his arms. 

All too soon, Satine pulled back and he followed her lips, bending down to kiss her. 

“That was quite rude, my dear,” he said, pressing soft kisses along her jaw. “Telling me to shut up?”

“Oh . . . well . . . Jedi are so much talk and so little action,” Satine breathed out, tilting her head to give him more access to her skin. 

“Only some Jedi,” he said, lightly nipping her earlobe. 

Satine let out the most gratifying little gasp of a whimper and drew away from him. “Obi, as--as extremely pleasant as this is--” 

“We have work to do,” he finished for her, nodding. But that didn’t stop him from reaching out and holding her hand. “But Satine, just so we’re clear . . . once our work is done? I am yours. No matter what.” 

Over the years, there had been a few moments when he had seen Satine happy. They were moments he treasured, how the light of her Force presence increased and her smile reached her eyes. But right now, he could tell Satine was more than happy. She was practically radiant in her joy. 

And Obi-Wan wanted to make her that happy for the rest of his life. 

XXX

If there was one thing Padmé Amidala knew, it was maintaining a secret romance. She understood how hard it was to stay professional when you wanted to be with your love, to show some sign of your relationship. 

It was wonderful that Satine was alive. Amazing, in fact. Padmé had grieved for the Mandalorian Duchess, a woman who had inspired Padmé to balance both the political and the personal. To remember she was also Padmé as well as Senator Amidala, and that she couldn’t be an effective Senator if she wasn’t also a person, too. 

So the least Padmé could do was give Satine and Obi-Wan a few minutes together. To allow them time to talk, to resolve their emotions. Because Padmé had never seen Obi-Wan so emotional as when he saw Satine. 

Unfortunately, though, their time was almost up. The meeting was scheduled to begin soon, and while their other guests hadn’t arrived yet, it was likely to happen any moment now. 

Taking a breath, Padmé looked at Lady Kryze and smiled. “It shouldn’t be much longer before the meeting begins. It’s probably time to remind everyone about the meeting and gather in the living room. Goodness knows Anakin loses all track of time around the twins.” 

Lady Krzye nodded, her lips quirking upwards. “And someone should go make sure Satine and Master Kenobi are still clothed.” 

“Ah, so you . . . are aware of their past?” Padmé said, tilting her head to one side as she settled on an appropriate euphemism for the relationship between Satine and Obi-Wan.

The Mandalorian woman snorted. “Of course. No one makes Satine lose her temper like he does.” 

“I don’t think anyone unsettles Obi-Wan like Satine, so I suppose they’re equal.”

With a nod, Lady Kryze said, “I’ll take care of my sister and her  _ jetii _ .” 

“I’ll meet you there after I’ve gotten Anakin and Ahsoka,” Padmé said, feeling a flutter of gratitude to Lady Kryze for volunteering to handle the more awkward situation.

The two of them separated and Padmé headed to the nursery, excited to get a few moments with the twins before she had to focus on work. 

Seeing Anakin hold both the babies made her heart melt. Padmé stepped inside quietly and walked over to him. “Hello, my darlings.” 

Anakin smiled widely at her. “Hey, angel. I was just going to put the twins in their crib.” 

“Are they asleep?” Padmé asked, noticing how Ahsoka slipped out of the room. She managed to smile quickly at the Togruta before turning her attention to the children. 

“Not yet, but they’re definitely sleepy,” Anakin said, showing her Leia’s face smushed against his tunic, her eyes drifting shut and her lips pursed. 

Padmé gently stroked Leia’s head, then lifted her out of Anakin’s arms. She settled Leia against her chest, swaying from side to side. Leia let out a soft little sigh, looking up at Padmé with so much love and trust in her eyes. 

As she gazed at her daughter, Padmé couldn’t help smiling. Leia was just so precious and unique. The idea of getting to watch Leia grow up, taking pride in her successes and helping with her challenges, was a humbling one. Getting to do that with Luke as well made Padmé feel even more humble. 

There wasn’t much time before the meeting. Part of her wished she could just stay here, and sing Leia to sleep and then cuddle Luke while telling him a story. But this meeting would mean so much to the whole galaxy. It could lead to the peace which would allow her to spend such time with her babies. 

Still . . . there was enough time to spend a few minutes with the twins. 

“Aren’t they just perfect?” Anakin whispered. 

And Padmé could only smile and nod at him. Because he was right. 

End, Chapter 9


	10. Chapter 10

There was a hum in the air as the time for the meeting grew closer, due to the rising tension. Or perhaps the tension was simply in Obi-Wan’s imagination, due to his anticipation of what would soon happen. After all, once Anakin entered this room, he would sense the shift in his old master’s outlook. As would Masters Yoda and Windu when they arrived. 

And while Anakin would probably just tease him a bit, he doubted Yoda or Mace would be so benign. 

He hoped the importance of this meeting and the information Satine and Bo-Katan were to present would stay the Jedi Masters’ tongues for now. And unfortunately, they might be more upset over Anakin’s actions than Obi-Wan’s. Not that it was fair, how Anakin was always so distrusted by so many on the Council. 

Even worse, it did not reflect well on the leaders of the Order to have so little faith in one of their members. 

When Ahsoka stepped into the room, Obi-Wan remembered Anakin wasn’t the only one to have suffered from the Council’s actions. 

“Hello, Ahsoka. It’s good to see you,” he said warmly, wanting her to know how pleased he was to see her. 

“Thank you, Master Obi-Wan,” she said, smiling at him. Her eyes flicked between him and Satine, locking on their gentle handhold, before her smile widened. “It’s good to see you, too.” 

It was strange to openly hold hands with Satine like this. To expose himself to such scrutiny. But it also felt long overdue, so he kept his hand wrapped around Satine’s for now. 

“We’ll have more time to catch up later, I hope,” he said. “I would like to hear what you’ve been up to.” 

“I’d like that, Obi-Wan,” Ahsoka said, her smile becoming a smirk. “I’d love to hear from your perspective some of the stories the Duchess has told me about the year you spent protecting her.” 

“Let me guess: the venom mites story?” Obi-Wan asked, sighing as Ahsoka nodded. He turned to Satine. “Really, my dear. Holding grudges is beneath you.” 

Satine lifted her chin. “So were the venom mites you dropped me on.” 

Ahsoka’s soft snicker made Obi-Wan roll his eyes, but then Anakin and Padmé walked in and Anakin all but dragged his wife over to their group. 

“Well, well, well,” Anakin said, smiling widely. “It looks like your reunion was a success.” He nudged Padmé gently and jerked his chin towards Obi-Wan and Satine’s joined hands. 

Both Padmé and Ahsoka let out soft laughs at Anakin’s unsubtle actions, while Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Really, Anakin. You are a married man with children now,” Obi-Wan said, looking at his former Padawan. “Aren’t you above such juvenile teasing?” 

“Nope,” Anakin said, amusement rolling off his Force presence. 

Padmé gave both Obi-Wan and Satine a gentle smile. “He’s just really happy. We both are.” 

“Thank you, Padmé,” Obi-Wan said, unable to keep from giving Satine a fond look. “So are we.” 

“As much as I’d like to talk more, I must speak to Threepio about arranging the refreshments,” Padmé said. She tugged on Anakin’s arm, pulling him down so she could kiss his cheek. “Behave, Ani.” 

Anakin looked a bit perturbed, but he nodded and turned back to the group. He shifted back and forth on his feet, some of his levity fading into apprehension. An apprehension that Obi-Wan also felt. 

Obi-Wan squeezed Satine’s hand before letting it go. “Satine, I need to have a word with Anakin.” 

She gave him a gentle smile. “Of course. I should speak with Bo as well, to prepare for our presentation.” 

“All right,” he said, smiling back at her and watching as she stepped carefully over to her sister. Ahsoka followed Satine: shifting into protector mode, Obi-Wan observed with approval.

Now alone with Anakin, he looked at the man who was his brother as much as his student. Anakin tried for a smile but wasn’t fully successful. “So . . .” he said, letting his voice trail off. 

“Regardless of what happens during this meeting, we will need to report to the Jedi Council about our actions,” Obi-Wan said, knowing that there was no time to hesitate. “Neither Yoda nor Mace will miss your babies, not with their Force presences. And hearing about Satine’s survival will make them question my status.” 

“I know,” Anakin said softly. He looked at Obi-Wan for a long moment. “Master . . . I don’t want to stay in the Order if it means I’d have to give up my family.” His face twisted. “I--I’d hate leaving you behind, not to mention the 501st. And I feel guilty about stepping away from my role in the war and dishonoring Master Qui-Gon’s faith in me, but I . . . I just can’t do it.” 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, resting a hand on his shoulder. He tried to speak, but his voice seemed caught in his throat. He swallowed and managed to push the words out. “You have done more to honor Qui-Gon’s belief in you by following your heart, following your own interpretation of the Force, than by staying to be some mythical Chosen One.” 

It was easy to see in Anakin’s expressive face when the words sunk in. Anakin’s eyes widened and his whole being seemed lit up with hope. “Yeah?” he said, a bit gruffly. 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said. “We’ll speak with the Council after this meeting, and I will be by your side.” 

“Yeah?” Anakin repeated, that teasing light coming back into his eyes.

“Not now, Anakin,” Obi-Wan cautioned him, lifting his hand from Anakin’s shoulder and holding it up as a gesture to stop. “There is another matter I wanted to bring up: our shared vision.” 

Although Anakin clearly wasn’t happy to have to drop his teasing, nearly three years of war had taught him when to focus on business. “What about it?” he asked. 

“Should we reveal what we learned to everyone here? Or should it be kept as a matter for the Jedi?” 

When Anakin still looked confused, Obi-Wan explained in a lowered voice, “The Chancellor is your mentor, Anakin. Do you want to accuse him of being a Sith, based on a vision, in a room full of people who know he is your mentor and who are not Jedi?” 

“Oh,” Anakin said quietly before swallowing audibly. 

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan said, looking at Anakin’s bowed head. “I wish there was more time for us to discuss the vision, to decide what to do--”

“I don’t need more time,” Anakin said, lifting his head to look at him. “I . . . I don’t think we should bring up the vision here. The Council will need to know--and they’ll understand. But right now, with the Senators and Satine and her sister here--I think we should keep the discussion on the clones.” 

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows, impressed at Anakin’s strategy. “Since the matter of the inhibitor chip might be enough to cast suspicion on the Chancellor?” 

Anakin nodded. “Yes. And . . . and if it turns out it’s not the Chancellor, and the vision isn’t what we thought it was--at least if the clones are safe, which means we would have removed a powerful weapon from our enemy, whoever that might be.” 

“I agree,” Obi-Wan said as the chime of the doorbell sounded through the room. He drew in a breath and looked at Anakin. “Are you ready?” 

He shrugged his shoulders. “As I’ll ever be.” 

The sense of defeat and resignation rolling off Anakin concerned Obi-Wan, but sadly, this wasn’t the time to discuss it further. But Obi-Wan hoped they would get a chance after the meeting to really discuss this. Definitely before they made their announcements to the Jedi Council. 

But for now, the matter at hand was not how both Anakin and himself had broken the Jedi Code or their shared vision of the Chancellor fighting Master Yoda. The matter was the clone army. 

XXX

As the Duchess of Mandalore and leader of the Council of Neutral Systems, Satine had presided over several delicate diplomatic debates. But she wasn’t sure if there was ever a situation so delicate as this one. Even before you considered a cloaked and hooded figure sitting in the middle of the room, prompting curious glances from everyone as they entered. 

The living room in Padmé’s apartment was large and spacious, and although there were only six guests, their personalities were great enough to make the room feel very crowded, especially combined with those already in the room. 

In one corner were the Senators invited by Padmé: Bail Organa of Alderaan, Mon Mothma of Chandrila, and Onaconda Farr of Rodia. Along with Padmé, they represented a neat cross-section of Core and Mid-Rim worlds, influential in the Senate but with their own opinions on the war and other Republic matters. 

Padmé was sitting on a couch between the Senators and the couch Satine was sharing with her sister. Anakin stood behind Padmé, while Obi-Wan was beside him. 

Next to Satine, Bo shifted, her helmet tucked under her arm and her face set in a neutral expression. Politics was the last thing her sister cared about, but Satine appreciated her support. Not to mention Ahsoka, who had remained near them even as the invited members of the Jedi Order entered the apartment. 

What must the girl be thinking, Satine wondered, seeing the men who had expelled her from the Order and then, with barely an apology, cleared her of the charges and expected her to return to those who had cast her out? 

As she pondered that, her eyes were drawn to the opposite corner, where the Jedi were sitting. Master Yoda was sitting on a small cushion, which made him look less foolish than being swallowed up by a chair. It was the touch of a master politician, to make someone feel so comfortable. But Satine would expect nothing less of Padmé. 

Beside Master Yoda, Master Mace Windu sat, his hands steepled together as he observed the room. His eyes rested on her and Satine kept her head slightly lowered, allowing the hood to shield her face. She had met both Jedi Masters before; she could guess they recognized her presence in the Force, like Obi-Wan could. She doubted her survival would surprise them very much. 

And she wondered if they could tell how two of their most valuable members were on the verge of breaking with the Order. 

Before she could follow that thought any further, Padmé rose to her feet. “Good afternoon,” she said, her clear voice carrying through the large room. “Thank you for attending this meeting: Senators, Jedi, and guests. At this time, I would like to introduce Lady Bo-Katan Kryze of Mandalore.” 

Rising to her feet gracefully, Bo nodded to the groups in the room. “Thank you, Senator. I have come before you with critical information about the Republic’s clone army. They are not what they believe themselves to be.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Senator Farr asked defensively. 

“No one in this room, nor anyone else in the Senate or Jedi Order, would know this,” Bo said, her head raised. “It is information that was provided to Mandalore, in our role as leader of the neutral systems of the galaxy, from certain citizens of Kamino.” 

“And what is this information?” Master Windu asked, his voice silky smooth but laced with suspicion. 

Bo leaned forward, placing a holotransmitter in the center of a table. She pressed a button and stood back to allow everyone to see the display. “Every clone has an inhibitor chip, placed in his brain, that will compel them to follow any of a number of pre-planned orders.”

Everyone leaned in, looking closer at a diagram showing the location of the inhibitor chip within a clone’s brain. Satine watched them as they took in this information, using a lifetime of political knowledge to read their faces. 

Senators Organa and Mothma looked horrified. Senator Farr looked intrigued. It was the Jedi reactions that Satine was most interested in: while Master Windu appeared perturbed, Master Yoda’s narrowed eyes and pursed mouth seemed to convey worry.

For a long moment, silence filled the room. Then Senator Mothma spoke. “Have you verified this information?” 

“We haven’t cut open a clone’s head yet, if that’s what you mean,” Bo said and Satine winced. She shot her sister a look, who sighed and continued, “We have extensively vetted the source and the data they provided. If it didn’t come straight from Kamino, their slicer was able to create a perfect forgery.” 

Senator Organa leaned forward. “So, if the information is apparently trustworthy . . . we must examine the purpose of these chips. And how they were inserted into the clone army.” 

“Know not, the Jedi, of these chips. Against the will of the Force, to tamper with sentients, it is,” Master Yoda said solemnly. 

For the moment, Satine was thankful for her hood, so she didn’t have to school her expression at such hypocrisy from the grandmaster of the Jedi Order. When the Jedi Council did nothing but manipulate and control their members, against what was right and fair . . . 

“Be that as it may, the Kaminoans must have provided you with data about the clones,” Senator Organa said smoothly. “Specifications and such. If there is no mention of these inhibitor chips in those documents, then . . . ”

Master Windu asked the obvious question. “How did these chips become part of the clone army and on whose orders?” 

“We don’t know that,” Bo said. “But finding out who’s responsible is critical.”

“As well as removing these chips from the clones,” Padmé said. 

“Wouldn’t that alert whoever put those chips in the clones in the first place?” Senator Farr asked, sounding grumpy.

And with that, the mood shifted from discovery to debate. Bo, her part done, sat down on the sofa beside Satine and leaned over towards her. “I don’t know how you could spend so many years dealing with such nonsense.”

Satine gave a small shrug of her shoulders. “This is democracy. It’s messy and imperfect, but I don’t think anyone in this room wants to replace it with something else.”

Bo looked doubtful but leaned back against the couch’s back, clearly getting comfortable. 

But Satine couldn’t help leaning forward, following all the points being made by each individual, waiting for any sign her assistance was needed. The ideal plan was for her to stay withdrawn and uninvolved in the conversation and hope no one thought to ask who the hooded figure was. However, so few things went according to plan, and she wasn’t about to let the Republic destroy the galaxy just because a few people couldn’t compromise and see the bigger picture. 

After an hour of discussion, Padmé rose and called the room to attention. “I believe a short break is in order,” she said, drawing a few surprised looks from her colleagues. She gave them a sheepish smile and gestured to Threepio. “My droid will provide anything you require during my absence.”

With that, Padmé slipped out of the room--probably to go tend to her babies, Satine guessed. She did hope she might have a chance to see them before she had to leave. 

“Excuse me.” 

So surprised to be addressed, Satine couldn’t help looking up at the face of Senator Organa. She quickly lowered her head before her hood could slip off. “Yes?” she asked, falling into her natural Mandalorian accent to disguise her voice. 

The senator looked at her for a long moment, then smiled. “I don’t know if you remember me, Duchess, but we met once in happier times: shortly after you were confirmed in your rule of Mandalore.”

Of the people in this room to guess who she was, her money hadn’t been on Bail Organa. But then, Satine and he both came from similar backgrounds, but very dissimilar worlds. 

Giving a small sigh, Satine lifted her hood away from her face, smoothing it out and looking up at him. “Hello, Senator Organa. Of course I remember you.”

She was truly getting tired of all the gasping that went on when she had to reveal herself. Perhaps Bo was right and she should just make some kind of public announcement. 

But that could wait for later. For now, she rose to her feet, gently dismissing Senator Organa’s hand in order to stand on her own. 

“Only the most critical matter could make me risk my recovery and step forward into the light of the public arena,” Satine said, looking at every one of the Senators and Jedi in front of her. “I hope you will not make this risk be a vain one.”

Her eyes connected with Obi-Wan. His hand was in front of his mouth, hiding whether he smiled or frowned. But his eyes, so pure and clear, were full of love and support. 

And Satine couldn’t help smiling at him. Even though this was not the time to smile and think of herself. 

But she had done her duty so far, and now it was up to the people she trusted: Padmé and Anakin, Ahsoka and Bo, and most of all, Obi-Wan. 

They would convince everyone here to move forward. To act instead of endlessly debate. And if they needed help . . . she would give the last shove to make these argumentative passive nerfs stick their necks out and do what was right. 

XXX

For once, Anakin wasn’t pushing his speeder to go as fast as possible. He knew Obi-Wan had noticed his non-reckless driving, and he was bound to be worried by it. But Anakin just wanted to take a few extra minutes to get to the Temple. 

After all, it might be the last time he ever went to the Temple. The last time he was a Jedi. 

Honestly, all the debating between the Senators and Masters Mace and Yoda got pretty boring after a while. Anakin thought there was a simple solution: find out who put the chips in the clones’ heads and then deal with it--both the chips and their puppet master. 

But he knew it wouldn’t be so easy, and he was proven right. It took several hours before it was agreed for each group to split up and present to their larger bodies. Anakin and Obi-Wan would join Masers Mace and Yoda in talking to the Jedi Council, while Padmé and Bail Organa would present their information to the Senate, with Bo-Katan present. 

He could only guess how the meeting with the Council would go. Probably even worse than the meeting he just had to sit through, because . . . because he knew Master Yoda and Master Mace knew that something was going on. The moment they had entered the apartment, they had sensed the twins and their sun-bright presence. 

And neither of them would pass up an opportunity to put him in his place once again. Even with more important things going on. 

Something about that realization made his hands relax around the controls. He felt an ache in his flesh hand--he must have been holding on tighter than he thought. 

It didn’t matter what the Council did to him once they knew the truth about Padmé and the twins. Anakin knew his only option was to resign before being expelled. He had broken the Code. He had attachments--attachments he would not give up. 

More than that, though . . . he was just tired of lying. Of hiding. It wasn’t fair to Padmé--she had been so right with her objections about a secret relationship. And although Anakin wouldn’t give up being married to Padmé over these last three years for anything, it was different now. 

The twins didn’t deserve to be hidden away. They deserved to shine, to be whoever they wanted to be. For the first time in his life, he felt like he really understood what love was. Because of love, he would do anything for his children, even at the expense of what he had always thought was his purpose in life: being a Jedi. 

Beside him, Obi-Wan made a soft hum. “You’re very thoughtful. But not angry. I’m surprised.” 

“I’m surprised, too,” Anakin admitted. “I thought . . . I always thought at this moment that I’d be mad at the Council. For forcing me to do this. But . . . it wasn’t the Council’s fault that I broke the Code. It was mine. So I have to face the consequences, even if it isn’t fair and the Code is bantha poodoo.”

Obi-Wan smirked slightly. “Now you really do sound like a father. Except for the reference to a bantha’s excrement” 

Anakin rolled his eyes and put the speeder in a swift downward plunge, just to torment his master. But instead of wincing and grabbing onto the speeder, Obi-Wan . . . laughed?

“Master? Are you all right?” Anakin asked, quickly levelling out of the dive. 

“Yes, Anakin, I’m fine,” Obi-Wan said with a chuckle. “You’re not the only one feeling differently than he expected at this moment.”

“Oh?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, wondering if Obi-Wan’s strange mood was related to his conversation with the Duchess. 

Obi-Wan looked out through the windshield for a long moment. Anakin looked forward, too, taking in Coruscant at sunset: the horizon red and gold, the sky above them a deep purple, streaks of light from speeders and ships moving around the tall buildings. 

“I’m going to leave the Order.” 

“You are? Really?” Anakin asked, feeling his fear diminish amid a surge of hope. At the idea of Obi-Wan actually maybe getting to be happy. “Because of Satine?” 

“Yes . . . although that’s only part of it,” Obi-Wan said. “Although in truth, if it wasn’t for Satine, I would never leave. But we have a second chance now and--and I cannot keep hurting her.” 

When Obi-Wan looked at him, there was such pain in his eyes, Anakin felt his heart ache for his old master. 

“She told me she loved me, just before she died--or we both thought she was dying,” Obi-Wan said, his voice choked. “And--and I couldn’t say it back. I couldn’t comfort her in her last moments, because . . . because of the Code.” 

Anakin didn’t know what to say. Well, no--he knew what he wanted to say. It might sound a bit weird, but it was what he felt, and he wanted his master to know. 

“I . . . I’m proud of you, Obi-Wan.” 

“It’s not really something to be proud of--” he tried to protest, but Anakin wasn’t going to let him brush this off. 

“It is,” he interrupted. “I know how much Satine means to you, and how much being a Jedi matters. So choosing Satine . . . it’s a good thing, Master.” 

It seemed to take Obi-Wan a moment to recover from Anakin’s words. They flew in silence towards the Temple, the tall, imposing structure starting to come into view before Obi-Wan spoke. 

“I hope so,” he said quietly. “And not just for myself. I’ve realized over the last few days that . . . that as much as the Jedi believe that both master and padawan learn from each other, there comes a point where the master needs to let the padawan go. So they can be their own Jedi. So the master doesn’t hold back their padawan or themselves.”

How many times as a padawan, brash and arrogant and presumptuous, had he thought Obi-Wan was holding him back? Too many to count, Anakin knew. But now, looking back, he was grateful for every single time Obi-Wan urged him to think, to reflect, to consider. Because he had been a dumb, whiny kid with too much power, and the terror he could have inflicted without Obi-Wan . . . he didn’t want to think about it. 

“You have been the best master of anyone in the Order, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said. “I know you were stuck with me, and--and I didn’t trust you for a long, long time. But I was wrong, and I’m glad to have you with me now.”

Obi-Wan let out a raspy chuckle. “And here I felt you were stuck with me. That I was failing you and failing Qui-Gon.”

“What?” Anakin said, looking at Obi-Wan in shock. “How the kriff did you get such an idea?”

“Perhaps because I knew my Padawan didn’t trust me?” Obi-Wan said dryly. 

Anakin rolled his eyes. “All right, I get it.”

He could practically feel Obi-Wan’s smirk as he drew the speeder into a hanger at the Temple. He shut it down, then looked at Obi-Wan. “We’re supposed to live in the moment, but I know the past is always with us. But I think things are gonna be better in the future, Obi-Wan.”

His old master looked at him for a long moment. Some of the sadness, the exhaustion, had been lifted from his face. Anakin guessed some of it was thanks to Satine--but he thought that maybe some of it was thanks to him. 

And it was a nice feeling to have. To feel connected with Obi-Wan, but not like as a padawan to his master. 

Up until now, he had thought of Obi-Wan as his father. But now . . . now he felt like a brother. An older, stubborn, bossy and annoying brother who thought he knew it all, but a brother nonetheless. 

It felt good. 

“Well,” Anakin said, climbing to his feet, “let’s not keep the Council waiting to expel us.”

Just like he hoped, Obi-Wan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Really, Anakin.”

Grinning widely, Anakin led the way to the Council chambers, a spring in his step the whole way.

End, Chapter 10


	11. Chapter 11

How many times had she been here? How many times had she risen to her feet and looked out over the hundreds of pods, seeing thousands of beings from across the galaxy? And had she ever been as tired as she was now, only a day removed from childbirth?

Padmé wasn’t sure of the answers. And her reserves of hope were nearly exhausted. Yet as she looked out at her fellow Senators, she found herself hoping once again. 

The Senate Building was home to the galaxy’s legislators, reflecting a diversity that was breath-taking. Not just simply in the variety of species, but in their mindsets, their cultures, their attitudes. Yet they were all united in leading the galaxy. Many for humanitarian reasons, some for selfish ones--but all gathered together, striving to benefit their planets, their systems, their galaxy according to their own instincts and opinions. 

Striving to settle her nerves and gather all her strength, Padmé wondered what the future would hold for her. Soon, her marriage to Anakin and the birth of the twins would be public knowledge. She didn’t know how Queen Apailana would react. It was quite possible Padmé would have to step down. After eight years as Naboo’s queen and five as its senator, how would she handle being a private citizen again? 

Padmé didn’t know. Yet she felt like she was ready to find out. Because at least she would have Anakin and the twins by her side. 

But before she could answer that question, there was the matter at hand. Bo-Katan was sitting with Bail and the rest of Alderaan’s delegation, ready to speak to the full Senate. After that, Bail would be making the proposal for an investigation into the clone army. But Padmé would open the debate. 

This might be the most important speech of her career. If it was to be the last one, she wanted it to matter. 

Looking around, she couldn’t help searching for the Kaminoans. Her heart sank slightly when she saw their pod sitting empty. She had hoped they would be here today. But perhaps Senator Burtoni had needed to return home or simply wasn’t attending today’s session. 

A soft chime rang out through the chambers, announcing the arrival of the Vice-Chancellor. Mas Amedda stepped into his pod and used the controls to move into the center of the arena. A deeper chime sounded before Mas Amedda spoke.

“Welcome, Senators. Let us begin.”

Without any hesitation, Padmé stood up and punched the button on her control pad to untether her pod. “Vice-Chancellor!”

“The chair recognizes the Senator from Naboo,” Amedda said, sounding resigned. 

“Thank you. Senators, aides, guests: I come before you with news that is critical to the safety and future of the Republic,” Padmé began, having no need to look at the notes on her datapad. “It concerns our clone army, and how we have all been misled--the Jedi, the Senate, the very clones themselves--about their nature.”

She paused, letting her eyes sweep around the Senate. So far, everyone was giving the appearance of listening. She knew, all too well, that appearances were deceiving in the Senate. But she knew her next words would make everyone start paying attention. 

“Intelligence has been shared with myself and a select group of Senators and Jedi, indicating that all clones have a control chip implanted in their brains. A chip, created for an unknown purpose and ordered to be implanted by an unknown individual, designed to force our loyal clone troopers to act against their own instincts and desires.”

A stir went through the entire Senate, the rumbling of several quiet conversations breaking out. 

Orn Free Ta of Ryloth was the first to call out, “You must have proof for your accusations!”

“I do,” Padmé said, staring with disdain at the Senator from Ryloth. “Here to present that proof is Lady Bo-Katan of House Kryze, the rightful ruler of Mandalore.”

As she sat down, Padmé looked towards the Alderaan pod and noticed a hooded figure there. She couldn’t help smiling: of course Satine wouldn’t stay away in this moment. 

After the Vice-Chancellor called for quiet, overriding objections to Bo-Katan speaking when her position had not been recognized by even her own people, Bo-Katan looked around the Senate Chamber. With her helmet tucked under her arm as usual, she stood out among the thousands of beings present. 

In a ringing voice, Bo-Katan laid out the information she had presented earlier today in Padmé’s apartment. Since she already knew the details, Padmé watched the Senators as Bo-Katan spoke, gauging their reactions and observing who might support Bail’s proposal and who would be against it. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a stirring in one pod and turned her head slightly. Her mouth nearly dropped open when she saw the Kaminoan senator enter her pod, her normally milky white skin marked by red blotches on her neck. 

What could have caused those marks? And had the Kaminoan senator appeared in order to join the debate? And would she refute or support Bo-Katan’s information?

As soon as Bo-Katan finished, several senators called for recognition from the chair. As Padmé expected, Amedda made sure to call mostly on those senators who were either hawks on the war or who supported the Chancellor no matter what. 

The amount of not-so-polite scoffing, the lack of balance, made Padmé’s heart sink. Would Bail even be allowed to make his proposal?

“Vice-Chancellor, I demand to speak.” 

“The chair recognizes the Senator from Kamino,” Amedda said, causing a wave of movement as all heads turned towards the Kamino pod, drifting into the center of the chamber. All eyes focused on Senator Burtoni as she slowly stood up in her pod. 

“Gentlebeings, I have heard much today,” the senator began. “I wish to offer evidence that is missing from the account provided by Lady Kryze.”

The senator paused and Padmé wondered what she was going to say. Normally, Kamino was a solid supporter of the Chancellor and the war. It was natural, as their planet’s fortunes had been made by creating the clone army. Yet Padmé had a feeling that something unusual was about to happen. 

“I regret to inform you that Kamino has long been aware of the control chip residing in the clones. And what is more, I have been instructed by my government to reveal who ordered the control chips to be implanted and can trigger the clones to follow only his orders.”

It was like the entire Senate drew in its breath, hanging on every word Senator Burtoni said. She paused and lifted her hand to her neck, strong emotion visible on her face. 

“We offer this evidence in order to show that Kamino desires neutrality. We only wish to continue our business operations, improving our techniques to create beings to specification,” the Senator insisted. “Whatever rights the Senate wishes to grant clones is a purely Republic matter, but Kamino supports such efforts. This is why we are rejecting the attempts at control made by he who ordered the control chips, he who has control of the clones: the Supreme Chancellor.”

Padmé stared at Senator Burtoni, not sure she had heard her correctly. Had she said the Supreme Chancellor was the one to order the chips to be implanted? The one who was in control of the clones? 

After a long moment of silence, the chamber erupted, senators rising to their feet and yelling and shaking their fists. 

Mas Amedda shouted for quiet, but it was no good. Everyone was too shocked to listen--until Bail maneuvered his pod into the center of the chamber. 

“Senators! Senators!” he said, his voice booming. “I have a motion!” 

Faintly, Amedda tried to order the session adjourned, but Bail ignored him. “Alderaan moves that the Chancellor’s powers are removed until he is questioned about these allegations!” 

At that, the Senators seemed to unite, in a way Padmé had never seen before. For once, shock had mobilized the Senate’s members, instead of paralyzing them. As awful as the circumstances, she felt a rush of hope. 

Was it so simple that the Chancellor, the man she had grown to distrust so thoroughly, was the one responsible for the Republic spiraling into darkness over the last ten years? And could it be that the Senate was finally breaking free of his darkness? 

Whether this was a permanent change, one that she would get to enjoy for years to come or only for this moment, Padme felt an immense swelling of relief. Especially when the Galactic Senate moved to strip Sheev Palpatine of his powers as Supreme Chancellor and for him to be placed under arrest. 

XXX

Ever since he had begun training with his master, Darth Sidious had never been surprised or faced unexpected situations. He possessed a particular strength in the Force, a special ability allowing him to see the sequence of events from every action. This talent was how he had created his grand plan to control the entire galaxy. And over the last twenty years, nothing happened that he had not accounted for. 

Yet . . . something was happening. Something that threatened all his designs. Something that could throw his perfect schedule in doubt.

Closing his eyes, Sidious stretched out his senses. There was a whirlpool of anger and shock from the Senate, but he brushed that aside--it wasn’t strong enough for the turmoil he felt. 

No . . . it was the Jedi Temple. That was where the swirling currents of the Force were centered. 

He had always planned on the Jedi realizing his true identity, finally seeing past his mask as the kindly Chancellor and beholding Darth Sidious. It would seem that time had come--not when he had planned for it, but it was close enough. Which meant it was time for one of the last steps before he gained control. 

At the thought, he allowed himself a quiet chuckle of satisfaction. Really, the Jedi were nothing for him to be concerned about. They were weak, hidebound, fearful. Soon, they would be wiped out. 

They were approaching--he could feel them. 

Smoothing down his robes, Darth Sidious assumed his Chancellor Palpatine mask to greet the Jedi. 

First to enter his office was Mace Windu, all prickly with suspicion and doubt. He was followed by a handful of other Jedi, beneath his notice. Palpatine had never bothered to learn their names. 

And then, bringing up the rear, just as he expected, was his future apprentice, the one who was key to his plans. It was all he could do not to show his glee at the presence of Anakin Skywalker. 

“Master Jedi, what an unexpected pleasure,” Palpatine said, his voice silky and reassuring. “To what do I owe this honor?” 

Windu plucked his lightsaber from his belt. “Sheev Palpatine, you are hereby removed from the office of Chancellor until such time as allegations which have been lodged against you have been fully investigated.” 

“Oh, my,” Palpatine said. He paused, wondering if that was laying it on rather too thick, but ah, well. “I don’t understand--what allegations?” 

“That you ordered control chips to be implanted in every member of the Grand Army of the Republic.” 

The voice of Obi-Wan Kenobi nearly made him snarl. No! He could not be here! For Skywalker to become his apprentice, Kenobi had to be far away at the other end of the galaxy--or else Skywalker, the weak-willed boy that he was, would not be ready to turn his back on his master. 

He needed to stall. Palpatine sank down into his office chair, putting his hand over his heart and acting for all the world like a man utterly shocked. 

“But I had nothing to do with the clone army,” Palpatine said, looking at the Jedi around him. He shouldn’t have sat down--now they were looming over him--he must put them on the defensive. “Surely, if there was anything done to the clones, it was on the orders of Master Sifo-Dyas, when he first dealt with the Kaminoans--” 

“No, Chancellor,” Windu said. “There is evidence against you: clone schematics from the Kaminoans, courtesy of Mandalore. And the testimony of Kamino’s Senator. You are under arrest; you will come with us and no harm will come to you.” 

If he was arrested--with the knowledge the Jedi and the Senate now had about the control chips--there was no way he would be able to spring his trap. Palpatine felt the smallest flicker of concern. For it was time for him to put his plan into action, to install Skywalker as his apprentice and launch his Empire, but everything was not ready. Kenobi’s presence, the Senate realizing its power--they would be problems. 

But with Skywalker by his side, their power would be too great for anything to stand in his way. 

Rising to his feet, Palpatine met Anakin’s eyes. He almost frowned as he took in the boy’s presence. There was a calmness to him, one Palpatine had never felt before. The churning anger and fear, the darkness barely held at bay only by the boy’s light and power--they were gone, leaving only purity and hope and sunshine. 

It was disgusting. 

“No--please, Master Jedi, this is all a misunderstanding,” he said, hoping this was the last time he had to act like such a weak, inconsequential fool. “I know nothing of these allegations--it is a plot by Kamino and Mandalore to weaken the Republic--they must be in league with the Separatists!”

“Chancellor,” Windu said, his lightsaber igniting. “I am duly charged by the Senate to remove you from this place. By force if necessary.” 

“Or by the Force,” one of the other Jedi said, his lip curling at his witticism. 

And with that insult from a weak, arrogant fool, it was time. 

Palpatine was no longer of any use to Darth Sidious. With a flick of his wrist, Sidious brought his lightsaber from the sleeve of his robe and ignited it, allowing the blade to impale the Jedi who thought he was so amusing. 

At once, the two remaining Jedi, as well as Kenobi and Skywalker, brought their lightsabers to the ready, the hum of the blades filling the office. 

“No, I do not think you will remove me,” Sidious said. “Or, more correctly, you will not be able to. Not with the aid of my new apprentice.” 

The tension ratcheted up and Windu pressed forward, his ridiculous purple blade rising towards Sidious. 

“Anakin Skywalker. You will join me, and I will share with you all my knowledge,” Sidious said. “Only I can show you how to defeat death. To save your beloved Padmé.” 

The words hung in the air and Sidious waited. 

And waited. 

And waited some more. 

What was happening? Why did he sense no shock from the Jedi? Why was Anakin not falling apart even as he Fell to the Dark Side? 

Sidious thrust forward with his lightsaber, pushing back one of the Jedi who was attempting to get behind him. “Anakin! Don’t let your wife die as your mother did! Save your child!” he snapped, throwing down his trump card. 

Surely, with the Jedi being aware of his marriage and upcoming offspring, even a dull-witted boy like Anakin would realize joining him was the only way. 

But the Anakin that walked towards him . . . he wasn’t . . . scared?

Tall, imposing, and powerful, Anakin Skywalker paused in front of him and lifted his lightsaber, the blade hovering a hair’s breadth from his neck. “My wife is alive. My  _ children  _ have been born. And the Jedi know all about them.” 

But--no! This was not the way it was supposed to happen!

Anakin gave him a long look. “You’ve failed, Darth Sidious. I’ll never turn to the Dark Side.” He paused, then flashed a cocky, arrogant, amused smirk. “In fact, go kriff yourself.” 

Time seemed to stretch like an elastic cord, the moment lengthening as he took in the strength of Anakin Skywalker. The strength and power and control . . . all lost to him. 

Sidious felt his face twist. He gripped his lightsaber as he drew the Dark Side of the Force to him, arming him. But for once, his control was not up to the challenge he faced. 

Because Anakin was still smirking at him. And he was going to wipe that smirk from his face, he would kill all these Jedi--saving Kenobi for last, making Anakin kill his old master as his first act as Darth Vader. 

And it would be glorious!

“Nooooooo!” Sidious howled as he swung his lightsaber at Anakin’s face while flinging his hand out and sending a Force push against the other Jedi.

The battle began, minds and bodies matched in a conflict for the galaxy. The clashing of blades and grunts of effort rang out through the office as Sidious pressed, feeding off the fear and greed of the entire galaxy. 

And yet, in the back of his mind, Sidious found himself asking if that would be enough against these Jedi. Against a united Kenobi and Skywalker, strong in the Force and in their connection. Against Mace Windu, the best duellist in the Jedi Order.

It had to be! He would not fail now--not when he was so close!

Windu was down--but only injured. The nameless Jedi were dead. That left Kenobi and Anakin, and he could match them--he could--he had already landed blows on each of them--Anakin was favoring his side, blood running down his face--

But Sidious knew he was growing weak, sloppy. He was pushed to his limits, and--and there wasn’t any more darkness to draw more power from. The light was winning! 

And with that, Sidious used his only remaining weapon. He gathered the power within himself and sent a spray of Force-powered lightning towards his opponents. 

He would destroy the Jedi, one way or another!

XXX

She had her duty: to protect Satine and the twins. But right now, as she watched the holonet melt down from the galaxy-shaking news, Ahsoka wished that she could do more. 

Holding the remote, she flipped through the various channels. Even the non-news networks were covering the biggest story ever to hit the galaxy.

Chancellor Palpatine, revealed as a Sith Lord and killed while resisting arrest and attacking a group of Jedi. General Anakin Skywalker, the Hero with No Fear, seriously wounded during the battle. Bail Organa elected as interim Chancellor, his first action to open diplomatic negotiations with the Separatists. 

It was like waking up one day to find the galaxy had turned itself inside-out. And all Ahsoka could do was sit here and watch it happen.

As soon as Padmé had received word about Anakin being injured, she had left for the Temple, insisting that Ahsoka stay behind to protect the twins and Satine. It had been one of the hardest decisions she had ever made, letting Padmé go with only her Nabooian guards. 

But Padmé--and Anakin--needed to know that the twins were safe. Protected. And Ahsoka knew she would protect Luke and Leia with her life. 

“Ahsoka, please.” 

“Huh?” Ahsoka said, turning to look at Satine. 

The Duchess was pale and drawn, the exhaustion of the past few days heavily weighing on her. She gestured towards the holoscreen. “Please--just pick a channel and stay there.” 

“I’m sorry,” Ahsoka said weakly, putting down the remote. “I’m just . . .” 

Ahsoka didn’t need to finish her sentence, because Satine understood. She gave Ahsoka a small smile and patted her shoulder. “I’m sure Anakin will be fine.” 

“I’m sure he will, too--but that doesn’t make waiting any easier,” Ahsoka said. She gave her head a rueful shake and rose to her feet, pacing slowly around the room. “I should meditate, but I don’t want to lose my awareness. Not with you and the twins depending on me.” 

“There is also Bo,” Satine said with a soft chuckle. “My sister is quite a protector.” 

“I know she is,” Ahsoka said. “But the twins--” 

Before Ahsoka could go on, her comm chimed. She snatched it up and answered the call. “Hello?!?” 

The tired, bruised face of Obi-Wan looked absolutely beautiful to her. “Obi-Wan! Is Anakin--is he--” 

“He’s going to be all right,” Obi-Wan said. “He’s in bacta now, and he’ll have some long-term issues, but--but he’s going to survive.” 

Her legs gave out underneath her from the relief. “Obi-Wan,” Ahsoka said, swallowing hard. 

He seemed to understand what she was feeling, because he gave her a soft smile. “It’s going to be okay, Ahsoka.”

She nodded, turning her head and quickly wiping a tear from her eyes. “Y-yeah. Yeah, okay. Here, talk to the Duchess. I--I’m gonna go check on the twins.” 

With that, Ahsoka shoved her comm into Satine’s hand and left the room, heading for the twins’ nursery. 

But first, she took a moment in the hallway to close her eyes and breathe. To center herself and reach out to the Force, feeling how much lighter it was now. Not clouded and dim, but bright and alive, like she hadn’t felt since she was a youngling in the Temple. 

Ahsoka opened her eyes and breathed out slowly. “Thank you,” she said. She wasn’t sure why, only that it felt like the Force deserved thanks for protecting them all from a greater darkness than anyone could have conceived of. 

With her emotions in order, Ahsoka stepped into the nursery and smiled at Sabé, who was rocking in a chair with Leia in her arms. 

“Late-night feeding?” Ahsoka asked, keeping her voice low. 

Sabé nodded. “She’s a hungry one.” 

“I just received word from Master Obi-Wan. Anakin is going to be all right.” 

The former handmaiden looked just as relieved as Ahsoka felt. “Oh, I’m so glad for Padmé. Not to mention for the twins’ sake.” 

Nodding, Ahsoka found herself walking over to the crib and looking down at Luke. He was asleep, one chubby fist in his mouth as he drooled. Ahsoka smiled and looked back at Sabé. “They’re pretty cute.” 

With a soft chuckle, Sabé nodded. “They are. Even in the middle of the night.” 

Ahsoka watched as Sabé stood up, gently cradling Leia, before setting her down in the crib next to her brother. She gently passed her fingers over Leia’s forehead in the shape of a crescent, then did the same for Luke. 

“To think, with everything that’s happened, these two arrived at just the right time,” Ahsoka said. She had seen how much stronger Anakin was with having his babies healthy and alive, with seeing Padme safe and strong. 

Could that have been the difference in his fight with Chancellor Palpatine--with Darth Sidious? Or was it having Obi-Wan by his side? 

They would probably never know, Ahsoka thought as her eyes fell on Luke again. Feeling the bond between them, the promise of a relationship like what she used to have with Anakin. The bond between a Master and a Padawan. 

“I’m not religious at all, but--but it does make you feel like there is something greater at work,” Sabé said quietly. 

“I know,” Ahsoka said, reaching out again and feeling that thrum from the Force, so alive and bright. 

Sabé looked at Ahsoka and smiled. “Come, I’ll make you some caff. I think we’re all going to be up for a while. I feel like a nocturnal creature lately, being awake at night and sleeping during the day.” 

“Thanks to the twins?” Ahsoka asked as she followed Sabé. 

“Yes. But really, I should have known. Because this all started with one late-night holo call,” Sabé said, beginning to tell Ahsoka the story as they walked to the kitchen.

End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who's read this story, commenting and leaving kudos and bookmarking it! I had a lot of fun allowing the story to unfold in unexpected ways and I hope you've enjoyed it!
> 
> I do have thoughts about an epilogue, focusing on Obi-Wan and Anakin reacting to the events of this last chapter, but it might be a little while before I'm able to get that out. So for now, this story is complete--I was so glad to have all of you along on the journey!


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